TH6   BUST6D    6X-T6XAN 


•NRLF 


B    3 


.  G. 


THE 

BUSTED    EX-TEXAN 


AND 


OTHER  STORIES 


BY 


W.   H.   H.   MURRAY 


AUTHOR   OF    "DAYLIGHT    LAND,"    "THE    STORY    THE    KEG    TOLD    ME, 
"  ADIRONDACK    ADVENTURES,"    ETC. 


PHOTOGRAVURE   PORTRAIT  AND  EIGHT  FULL-PAGE   ILLUSTRATIONS 
BY  THOS.  WORTH. 


BOSTON 
DE  WOLFE,  FISKE  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS 

1890 


COPYRIGHT  1889  BY  W.  H    H    MURRAY. 

ALL  RIGHTS   RESERVED. 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


I.  "  I  AM  A  BUSTED  EX-TEXAN  " 

II.  "  PRACTICALLY  INSIDE  THE  PAIL." 

III.  "AND  WHEN  I  CAME  DOWN." 

IV.  "LAY  ABOARD  OF  THE  OLD  Cuss." 
V.  "  LUFF  HER  UP  —  LUFF  HER  UP." 

VI.  THE  DEACON  AND  PARSON. 

VII.  THE  RACE. 

VIII.  THE  FIRST  PRIZE  FOR  THE    Wickedest    Cow* 


M181746 


THE  BUSTED  EX-TEXAN 


THE  BUSTED  EX-TEXAN. 


E  were  camped  amid  the  foot 
hills  on  the  trail  which  led  up 
to  the  Kicking  Horse  Pass. 
The  sun  had  already  passed 
from  sight,  beyond  the  white  summits  above  us, 
and  the  shadow  of  the  monstrous  mountain  range 
darkened  the  prairie  to  the  east,  to  the  horizon's 
rim.  Our  bivouac  was  made  in  a  grove  of 
lofty  firs,  six  or  eight  in  number ;  and  a  little 
rivulet,  trickling  from  the  upper  slopes,  fell, 
with  soft,  lapsing  sound,  within  a  few  feet  of 
our  camp-fire.  We  did  not  even  pitch  a  tent, 
for  the  sky  was  mild,  and  above  us  the  mon 
strous  trees  lifted  their  protecting  canopy  of 
stems.  The  hammocks  were  swung  for  the 
ladies,  and  each  gentleman  "  preempted "  the 
claim  that  suited  him  best,  by  depositing  his 

5 


6  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

blanket  and  rifle  upon  it.  The  entire  party 
were  in  the  best  of  spirits,  and  nature  re 
sponded  to  our  happiness  in  its  kindest  mood. 
Laughter  sounded  pleasantly  at  intervals  from 
the  busy  groups,  each  working  at  some  self- 
appointed  industry.  The  hum  of  cheerful  con 
versation  mingled  with  the  murmurs  of  the 
brook ;  and  now  and  then  the  snatch  of  some 
sweet  song  would  break  from  tuneful  lips, 
brief,  spirited,  melodious  as  a  bobolink's,  dash 
ing  upward  from  the  clover-heads.  And  before 
the  mighty  shadow  lying  gloomily  on  the  great 
prairie  plain,  which  stretched  eastward  for  a 
thousand  miles,  had  grown  to  darkness,  the 
active,  happy  workers  had  given  to  the  bivouac 
that  look  of  designed  orderliness  which  a 
trained  party  always  give  to  any  spot  they 
select  in  which  to  make  a  camp  or  pass  a 
night.  An  hour  before,  there  was  nothing  to 
distinguish  that  grove  of  trees,  or  the  ground 
beneath  them,  from  any  other  spot  or  hill  within 
the  reach  of  eye.  But  now  it  commanded  the 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  7 

landscape  ;  and,  had  you  been  trailing  over  the 
vast  plain,  the  bright  firelight,  the  group  of 
men  and  women  moving  to  and  fro,  the  pick 
eted  horses,  the  fluttering  bits  of  color  here 
and  there,  would  have  caught  your  gaze  ten 
miles  away ;  and  were  you  tired  or  hungry, 
or  even  lonesome,  you  would  have  naturally 
turned  your  horse's  head  toward  that  camp 
as  toward  a  cheerful  reception  and  a  home ; 
for  wherever  is  happy  human  life,  to  it  all 
lonely  life  is  drawn  as  by  a  magnet. 

And  this  was  demonstrated  by  our  experi 
ence  then  and  there.  For,  scarcely  had  we 
done  with  supper,  —  and  by  this  time  the  gloom 
had  grown  to  darkness,  and  the  half-light  of 
evening  held  the  landscape,  —  when  out  of  the 
semi-gloom  there  came  a  call,  —  the  call  of  a 
man  hailing  a  camp.  Indeed,  we  were  not  sure 
he  had  not  hailed  several  times  before  we 
heard  him  ;  for,  to  tell  the  truth,  we  were  a 
very  merry  crowd,  and  as  light  of  heart  as  if 
there  was  not  a  worry  or  care  in  all  the  world, 


8  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

-  at  least  for  us,  —  and  the  smallest  spark  of 
a  joke  exploded  us  like  a  battery.  Indeed,  so 
rollicking  was  our  mood  that  our  laughter  was 
nearly  continuous,  and  it  is  quite  possible  that 
the  stranger  may  have  hailed  us  more  than 
once  without  our  hearing  him.  And  this  was 
the  more  likely  because  the  man's  voice  was 
not  of  the  loudest,  nor  was  it  positive  in  the 
energy  of  its  appeal. 

Indeed,  there  was  a  certain  feebleness  or 
timidity  in  the  stranger's  hail,  as  if  he  was 
mistrustful  that  any  good  fortune  could  respond 
to  him,  and,  hence,  deprecated  the  necessity 
of  the  resort.  But  hear  him  we  did  at  last, 
and  he  was  greeted  with  a  chorus  of  voices 
to  "  Come  in  !  Come  in  !  You're  welcome  !  " 
And  partly  because  we  had  finished  our  repast, 
and  partly  from  courtesy  and  the  natural 
promptings  of  gentlefolk  to  give  a  visitor 
courteous  greeting,  we  all  arose  and  received 
him  standing.  And,  certainly,  had  the  kindly 
act  been  unusual  with  us,  not  one  of  our  group 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  9 

would  have  regretted  the  extra  condescension 
bestowed  upon  him  at  his  coming,  after  he 
had  entered  the  circle  of  our  firelight,  and  we 
saw  the  expression  of  his  features. 

What  a  mirror  the  human  face  is  !  Looking 
into  it,  how  we  behold  the  soul,  the  accidents 
that  have  befallen  it  and  the  disappointments 
it  has  borne !  Are  not  the  faces  of  men  as 
carved  tablets  on  which  we  read  the  records  of 
their  lives  ?  The  face  of  childhood  is  smoothly 
beautiful,  like  a  white  page  on  which  neither 
with  ink  of  red  or  black  has  any  pen  drawn 
character.  But,  as  the  years  go  on,  the  pen 
begins  to  move  and  the  fatal  tracery  to  grow, 
-  that  tracery  which  means  and  tells  so  much. 
And  the  face  of  this  man, —  this  waif,  so  to 
speak,  —  this  waif  that  had  come  to  us  from 
the  stretch  of  the  prairie,  whose  southern  line 
is  the  southern  gulf;  this  stranger,  who  had 
come  so  suddenly  to  the  circle  of  our  light,  and 
so  plaintively  sought  admission  to  its  comfort 
and  its  cheer,  was  a  face  which  one  might  read 


IO  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

at   a  glance.      Not  one  in  our  circle  that    did 
not  instantly  feel  that  he  embodied  some  over 
whelming  calamity.     A   look    of   sadness,  of  a 
mild,  continuous    sorrow,    overspread  his    face. 
There  was  a  pitiful  expression  about  the  mouth, 
as    if   brave    determination   had    withdrawn    its 
lines  from  it  forever.     From  his  eyes  a  certain 
mistrustfulness  looked  forth,  — not  mistrustful 
ness  of   others,  but  of   himself,  — as  if   confi 
dence    in     his    own    powers    had    received    an 
overwhelming  shock.      The   man's    appearance 
made  an   instant  and  unmistakable  impression 
upon  the    entire  company.     The  ladies  —  God 
bless  their   sweet   and  sympathetic  natures ! 
were   profoundly    moved    at    the    pitiful    aspect 
of  our  guest.     Their  bosoms  thrilled  with  sym 
pathy  for  one  upon  whose  devoted  head  evil 
fortune  had    so    evidently  emptied    its    quiver. 
Nor  were  our  less  sensitive  masculine   natures 
untouched  by  his  forlorn  appearance. 

"  A  target  for  evil  fortune,"  whispered   Dick 
to  the  major. 


•      THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  I  I 

"  A  regular  bull's-eye  !  "  was  the  solemn 
response.  "  A  bull's-eye,  by  gad !  at  the  end 
of  the  score." 

It  was  not  a  poetic  expression.  I  wish  the 
reader  to  note  that  I  do  not  record  it  as  such. 
I  only  preserve  it  as  evidence  of  the  major's 
humanity,  and  of  the  unaffected  sympathy  for 
the  stranger,  which  at  that  moment  filled  all 
hearts. 

Naturally,  as  it  can  well  be  imagined,  the 
gayety  of  our  company  had  been  utterly  checked 
by  the  coming  of  our  sad  guest.  In  the  pres 
ence  of  such  a  wreck  of  human  happiness, 
perhaps  of  human  hope,  what  person  of  any 
sensibility  could  maintain  a  lightsome  mood  ? 
Had  it  not  been  for  one  peculiarity,  —  a  pecul 
iarity,  I  am  confident,  all  of  us  observed,  —  the 
depression  of  our  spirits  would  have  been  as 
profound  as  it  was  universal.  This  peculiarity 
was  the  stranger's  appetite.  This,  fortunately, 
had  remained  unimpaired,  —  an  oasis  in  the 
Sahara  of  his  life. 


12  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

'4The  one  remnant  left  him  from  the  wreck 
of  his  fortunes,"  whispered  Dick. 

"  A  perfect  remnant !  "  returned  the  major, 
sententiously. 

For  myself,  acting  as  host  to  this  appetite, 
and  being  naturally  of  a  philosophic  turn,  I 
watched  its  development  with  the  keenest  in 
terest,  not  to  say  with  a  growing  curiosity. 
14  Here  is  something,"  I  said  to  myself, 
"  that  is  unique.  That  fine  law  of  recompense 
which  is  kindly  distributed  through  the  uni 
verse  finds  here,"  I  reflected,  '.'  a  most  instruc 
tive  and  conclusive  demonstration.  Robbed,  by 
an  adverse  fate,  of  all  that  made  life  agreeable, 
this  man,  this  pilgrim  of  time,  this  wayfarer  to 
eternity,  this  companion  of  mine  on  the  road 
of  life,  has  had  bestowed  upon  him  an  extraor 
dinary  solace,  has  been  permitted  to  retain  a 
commensurate  satisfaction.  Surely,  life  cannot 
have  lost  its  attractions  for  one  whose  stomach 
still  preserves  such  aspirations."  And,  prompted 
by  the  benevolence  of  my  mood,  and  the  antici- 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  13 

pations  of  a  wise  forecast,  I  collected  in  front 
of  me  whatever  edibles  remained  on  the  table, 
that,  if  the  supply  of  our  hospitality  should 
prove  insufficient,  the  exhibition  of  its  spirit 
should  at  least  be  conclusive. 

But,  if  the  countenance  of  the  stranger  was  of 
a  most  melancholy  cast,  there  were  not  lacking- 
hints  that  by  nature  he  had  been  endowed  with 
vivacity  of  spirit ;  for,  as  he  continued,  with  an 
industry  which  was  remarkable,  to  refresh  him 
self,  there  were  appearances,  which  came  to 
the  eye  and  the  corners  of  his  mouth,  which 
made  the  observer  conclude  that  he  was  not 
lacking  the  sense  of  humor ;  and,  if  his  experi 
ence  had  been  most  unfortunate,  there  was  in 
him  an  ability  to  appreciate  the  ludicrousness 
of  its  changeful  situations.  Indeed,  one  could 
but  conclude  that  originally  he  must  have  been 
of  a  buoyant,  not  to  say  sanguine  disposition  ; 
and,  if  one  could  but  prevail  upon  him  to  nar 
rate  the  incidents  of  his  life,  they  would  be 
found  to  be  most  entertaining. 


14  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

It  was  something  like  an  hour  before  our 
melancholy-looking  guest  had  fully  improved 
the  opportunity  with  which  a  benignant  Provi 
dence  had  supplied  him,  —  a  freak  in  which, 
one  might  conclude,  she  seldom  indulged.  He 
ceased  to  eat,  and  sat  for  a  moment  gazing 
pensively  at  the  dishes.  It  seemed  to  me  — 
but  in  this  I  may  possibly  be  mistaken  —  that 
a  darker  shade  of  sadness  possessed  his  face  at 
the  conclusion  than  the  one  that  shadowed  it 
so  heavily  at  the  beginning  of  the  repast. 
"The  pleasures  of  hope,"  I  said  to  myself,  "  are 
evidently  greater  to  my  species  than  are  those 
of  recollection.  Now  that  there  is  nothing  left 
for  my  guest  to  anticipate,  it  is  evident  that 
memory  ceases  to  excite."  And  I  could  but 
feel  that,  had  our  provisions  been  more  abun 
dant,  the  stranger's  appetite  would  not  have 
been  so  easily  appeased.  With  something  of 
regret  in  my  voice,  I  sought  to  divert  his  mind 
from  that  sense  of  disappointment  which  I 
judged  from  his  countenance  threatened  to 
oppress  his  spirits. 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  15 

"  Friend,"  I  said,  "  I  doubt  not  that  you  have 
trailed  a  goodly  distance,  and  your  fasting"  has 
been  long  ?  " 

44  I  have  not  eaten  a  meal  in  two  days,"  was 
the  response. 

44  Heavens  !  "  exclahned  Dick  in  an  aside  to 
the  major.  "Is  it  credible  that  that  man  ate 
two  days  ago  !  " 

44  Gad  !  "  exclaimed  the  major,  "  the  man's 
stomach  is  nothing  but  a  pocket." 

44  A  pocket!  I  should  call  it  an  unexplored 
cavern  !  "  retorted  Dick. 

44  The  direction  and  reason  of  your  long  trail 
would  be  interesting,"  I  resumed.  44  And,  if 
not  impertinent,  friend,  may  I  ask  you  whence 
you  have  come  ?  " 

"  I  have  journeyed  from  Texas,"  replied  the 
man,  and  his  voice  nearly  broke  as  he  said  it. 

44  (9^7  "  exclaimed  the  ladies,  and  they  sym 
pathetically  grouped  themselves,  anticipating, 
with  true  feminine  sensitiveness,  some  terrible 
denouement. 


1 6  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

"  Texas  /"I  ejaculated. 

"Gad!"  said  the  major. 

"The  Devil!  "  said  Dick. 

"Yes,  Texas!"  repeated  the  man,  and  he 
groaned. 

By  this  time,  as  any  intelligent  reader  will 
easily  divine,  our  whole  group  was  in  a  condi 
tion  of  mild  excitement.  Several  of  us  had 
resided  in  Texas,  and  we  felt  that  we  stood  at 
the  threshold  of  a  history,  —  a  history  with 
infinite  possibilities  in  it.  For  myself,  I  knew 
not  how  to  proceed.  My  position  as  a  host 
forbade  me  to  interrogate.  The  sorrows  of  life 
are  sacred,  and  my  sensitiveness  withheld  me 
from  thrusting  myself  within  the  enclosure  of 
my  guest's  recollections.  That  his  experiences, 
could  we  but  be  favored  with  a  narration  of 
them,  would  be  entertaining,  —  painfully  enter 
taining,  —  I  keenly  realized  ;  but  how  to  pro 
ceed  I  saw  not.  I  remained  silent. 

'•"Yes,"  —  it  was  the  stranger  who  broke  the 
silence,  —  "  I  am  a  busted  ex-Texan  !  " 


^vCW^ 


^v 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  I/ 

The  relief  that  came  to  me  at  the  instant  was 
indescribable.  The  path  was  made  plain.  We 
all  felt  that  we  were  not  only  on  the  threshold 
of  a  history,  but  of  a  narration  of  that  history. 
The  ladies  fluttered  into  position  for  listening". 
I  could  but  see  it,  and  so  I  am  bound  to  record 
that  I  saw  Dick  irreverently  punch  the  major. 
It  was  a  punch  which  carried  with  it  the  signifi 
cance  of  an  exclamation.  The  major  received 
it  with  the  face  of  a  Spartan,  but  with  the  grunt 
of  a  Chinook  chief. 

"Friend,"  I  said,  "we  are  accustomed  to 
beguile  the  evening  hours  with  entertaining  de 
scriptions  of  travels,  often  of  personal  incidents 
of  the  haps  and  hazards  of  life  ;  and,  if  it  would 
not  be  disagreeable  to  you,  we  would  be  vastly 
entertained,  beyond  doubt,  by  any  narration 
with  which  you  might  favor  us  of  your  Texan 
experiences  and  of  the  fortunes  which  befell 
you  there." 

For  a  few  moments,  the  silence  remained 
unbroken,  save  by  the  crackle  of  the  fire  and 


I  8  THE    BUSTED    EX- TEXAN. 

the  soft  movement  in  the  great  firs  overhead,— 
a  movement  which  is  to  sound  what  dawn  is  to 
the  day ;  not  so  much  a  sound  as  a  feathery 
siiLTo-estion  that  sound  might  come.  It  was  a 
genial  hour,  and  the  mood  of  the  hour  began 
to  be  felt  in  our  own.  The  warmth  of  it  evi 
dently  penetrated  the  bosom  of  our  guest.  He 
had  eaten.  He  was  filled,  —  appreciably  so  at 
least,  and  that  happy  feeling,  that  comfortable 
sense  of  fulness,  which  characterizes  the  after- 
dinner  hour,  pervaded  him  with  its  genial  glow. 
He  loosened  his  belt,  —  another  tremendous 
nudge  from  Dick,  —  and  a  look  of  contentment 
softened  his  features.  Whatever  storm  had 
wrecked  his  life,  he  had  now  passed  beyond  its 
billows,  and  from  the  sure  haven  into  which  he 
had  been  blown  he  could  gaze  with  complacent 
resignation,  if  not  with  happiness,  at  the  dan 
gers  through  which  he  had  passed.  I  am  sure 
that  we  were  all  delighted  at  the  brightening 
appearance  of  our  guest,  and  felt  that,  if  the 
story  he  was  to  tell  us  was  one  which  included 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN,  19 

disasters,  it  would  at  least  be  lightened  by 
traces  of  humor  and  the  calm  acceptance  of  a 
philosophic  mind. 

"  I  was  born  in  the  State  of  Connecticut," 
so  our  guest  began  his  narration.  4<  I  came 
from  a  venturesome  stock,  and  the  instinct  of 
commercial  enterprise  may  be  regarded  as 
hereditary  in  my  family.  My  grandfather  was 
the  first  one  to  discover  the  tropical  attributes 
of  the  beech-wood  tree.  He  first  perceived 
that  it  contained  within  its  fibres  the  pungency 
of  the  nutmeg.  With  a  celerity  which  we  re 
member  with  pride  in  our  family,  he  availed 
himself  of  the  commercial  value  of  his  dis 
covery,  and  for  years  did  a  prosperous  trade  on 
the  credulity  of  mankind.  He  was  a  man  of 
humor,  —  a  sense  which  has  been  to  some 
extent  transmitted  to  myself,  —  he  was  a  man 
of  humor,  and  I  have  no  doubt  he  enjoyed  the 
joke  he  was  practising  on  people,  fully  as  much 
as  the  profits  which  the  practical  embodiment 
of  his  humor  brought  to  his  pocket.  My  father 


2O  THE    3USTED    EX-TEXAN. 

was  a  deacon,  a  man  of  true  piety  and  eminently 
respectable.  He  was  engaged  in  the  retail- 
grocery  business,  —  a  business  which  offers 
opportunities  to  a  person  of  wit  and  of  an 
inventive  turn  of  mind.  The  butter  that  he 
sold  was  salted  invariably  by  one  rule  —  a  rule 
which  he  discovered  and  applied  in  the  cellar 
of  the  store  himself;  and  the  sugar  which  he 
sold,  if  it  was  sanded,  was  always  sanded  by  a 
method  which  improved  rather  than  detracted 
from  its  appearance." 

Here  our  guest  paused  a  moment,  as  if 
enjoying  the  recollections  of  the  virtues  of  his 
ancestors.  His  face  was  as  sober  as  ever,  but 
his  look  was  one  of  contentment ;  and  I  could 
but  note  the  suggestion  of  merriment  —  the 
merriment  of  a  happy  memory  —  in  his  eye. 
How  happy  it  is  for  an  offspring  to  be  able  to 
recall  the  character  of  his  forefathers  with  such 
liveliness  of  mind  ! 

"The  motive  which  impelled  me  towards 
Texas,"  he  resumed,  "was  one  which  was 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  2  I 

natural  for  me  to  feel,  thus  ancestrally  con 
nected.  I  had  heired  my  father's  business,  - 
the  deacon,  who  had  died  full  of  honors,  ripe  in 
years,  and  in  perfect  peace.  But  the  business 
did  not  prosper  in  my  hands  ;  perhaps,  I  had 
not  heired,  with  the  business,  the  deacon's 
ability,  —  that  accuracy  of  eye,  that  gravity  of 
appearance,  that  deftness  of  touch,  so  to  speak, 
which  underlay  his  success.  Be  that  as  it  may, 
the  business  did  not  pay,  and  without  hesita 
tion  I  sold  it ;  and,  with  a  comfortable  sum  for 
investment,  I  journeyed  to  Texas. 

"It  is  proper  for  me  to  remark  that  the 
welcome  I  received  was  most  cordial.  I  chose 
a  populous  centre  for  a  temporary  residence, 
and  proceeded  to  look  around  me.  I  found  the 
Texans  to  be  a  warm-hearted  people,  much 
given  to  hospitality,  and  willing,  with  a  charm 
ing  disinterestedness,  to  admit  all  new-comers, 
with  capital,  to  the  enormous  profits  of  their 
various  enterprises. 

"  For  the  first  time  in  my  life,  I  found  myself 


22  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

among  a  people  who  were   successful  in  every 
thing    they    undertook.       Their    profits    were 
simply  enormous.     No  speculation  could  possi 
bly  fail.      However  I  invested  my  money,  I  was 
assured  that  I  would  speedily  become  a  million- 
naire.     Cotton  was   a  certain  crop.     Corn  was 
never  known  to  fail.     The  Texan  tobacco  was 
rapidly  driving  the  Cuban  out  of   the  market. 
The  aboriginal  grapes  of   the  State,  of  which 
there  were    millions    of  acres    waiting    for  the 
presses,  yielded,  as  Europe  confessed,  a  wine 
superior  to  Champagne.     If  I  preferred  herd 
ing,  all  I  had  to  do  was  to  purchase  a  few  sheep 
and  simply  sit  down.     There  was  no  section  of 
the  globe  where  sheep  were  so  prolific,  fleeces 
so  thick,  or  the  demands  of  market  so  clamor 
ous.     And,  as  for  horses,  I  was  assured  that  no 
one  in  Texas  who  knew  the  facts  of  the  case 
would    spend  any  time  in  raising   them.     The 
prairies  were  full  of   them,  hundreds  of  thou 
sands  of  them,  all  blooded  stock,  '  true  descend 
ants,  sir,  from   the    Moorish    Barb,  distributed 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  23 

through  the  whole  country  at  the  Spanish 
invasion.'  I  need  do  nothing  but  purchase  fifty 
thousand  acres,  fence  the  territory  in,  and  the 
enclosed  herds  would  continue  to  propagate 
indefinitely.  Such  were  the  delightful  pict 
ures  which  my  entertainers  presented  to  me. 
Captivated  by  the  charming  manners  of  my 
hosts,  my  sanguine  temperament  kindled  into 
heat  at  the  touch  of  their  enthusiasm.  Where 
every  venture  was  sure  of  successful  issue,  there 
was  no  need  for  deliberation  or  selection.  I 
invested  indiscriminately  in  all,  and  waited 
buoyantly  for  the  results." 

Here  the  stranger  paused,  compelled,  per 
haps,  by  a  slight  interruption.  Dick  had  re 
tired,  closely  followed  by  the  major.  Our  guest 
certainly  was  not  devoid  of  humor,  and  I  was 
convinced,  as  I  watched  the  play  of  his  features, 
that  he  apprehended  and  appreciated  the  reason 
for  their  retirement.  He  lifted  a  plate  from  the 
table,  inspected  it  closely,  turned  it  over,  gazed 
contemplatively  at  its  reversed  side,  and,  pojs- 


24  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

ing  it  deftly  upon  the  point  of  three  fingers, 
quietly  remarked  :  - 

"The  gentlemen,  I  judge,  have  been  in 
Texas  ?  " 

"  They  have,"  I  replied  :  "  we  three  were  there 
together." 

"Ah!" 

It  was  all  he  said.  I  might  add,  it  was  all 
that  could  be  said. 

At  this  point,  Dick  and  the  major  rejoined  us. 
Their  eyes  showed  traces  of  recent  tears.  They 
were  still  wiping  their  faces  with  their  handker 
chiefs.  With  that  refinement  which  is  charac 
teristic  of  true  gentlemen,  and  which  seeks 
concealment  of  any  extraordinary  emotion,  they 
had  considerately  retired  to  indulge  their 
laughter. 

"  I  am  delighted,"  continued  our  guest,  after 
Dick  and  the  major  had  resumed  their  seats,  "  I 
am  delighted  to  find  myself  in  company  with 
men  of  experience.  I  feel  that  you  will  not 
question  the  veracity  of  my  story,  or  fail  to 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  25 

appreciate  the  outcome  of  my  enterprises.  At 
the  end  of  two  years,  my  property  was  distrib 
uted  promiscuously  throughout  the  State,  and  I 
was  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  making  one 
final  venture  to  recoup  myself  for  the  losses 
which,  to  the  astonishment  of  the  entire  Texan 
community,  I  assured  them  I  had  met.  I  was 
the  only  man,  as  they  asserted,  '  that  had  ever 
failed  to  make  a  magnificent  success  in  Texas.' 

14  You  can  readily  conceive,  gentlemen,  that  I 
was  determined  to  make  no  mistake  in  my  final 
venture.  There  were  other  reasons,  beside  the 
one  of  caution,  which  persuaded  me  to  begin 
with  a  moderate  investment ;  so  1  bought  one 
cow.  It  was  impossible  for  me  to  make  a  mis 
take  from  such  a  beginning.  Every  person  in 
Texas  that  had  rapidly  risen  to  financial  emi 
nence  had  started  with  one  cow.  Many  a  time 
had  a  Texan  ranchman  swept  his  hand  with 
a  royal  gesture  over  a  landscape  of  flowers  and 
Mesquite  brush,  dotted  with  thousands  of  cattle 
and  exclaimed,  4  Stranger,  I  started  this  yer 


26  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

ranch  with  one  cow.'  And  then  he  would  take 
out  a  piece  of  chalk  and  figure  out  to  me  on  his 
saddle  how  that  one  cow  had  multiplied  herself 
into  seven  thousand  five  hundred  and  twenty- 
three  other  cows,  which  had  proceeded  to 
promptly  multiply  themselves,  <  regular  as  the 
seasons  come  round,  sir,'  in  the  same  reckless 
manner,  until  it  was  evident  that  the  number  of 
her  progeny  was  actually  curtailed  by  the  size 
of  the  saddle  and  the  lack  of  chalk.  Now,  I 
was  eager  to  possess  a  cow  with  such  a  multipli 
cation-table  attachment,  and,  being  unable  to 
wait  even  ten  years  before  I  could  tingle  with 
the  sensation  of  being  a  millionnaire  ranchman, 
I  decided  to  shorten  the  probationary  stage  by 
half,  and  so  I  purchased  two  cows." 

At  this  point,  Dick  rolled  over  upon  the 
grass,  and  the  major  was  doubled  up  as  with 
sudden  pain.  As  for  myself,  I  confess  I  could 
not  restrain  my  emotions.  I  had  been  through 
the  same  experience  as  had  fallen  to  my  guest, 
and  I  appreciated  the  sanguine  characteristics 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  2J 

of  his  temperament,  which  prompted  him  to  the 
investment,  and  the  humor  of  the  situation.  I 
laughed  till  my  eyes  flowed  with  tears,  and  the 
stillness  'of  the  foot-hills  resounded  with  the 
unrestrained  merriment  of  the  entire  camp. 

The  humor  of  our  guest  was  truly  American, 
the  humor  of  suggestive  restraint  and  exaggera 
tion  both.  He  narrated  his  experiences,  which 
had  resulted  in  the  loss  of  his  fortune  and  the 
collapse  of  his  hopes,  with  a  face  like  a  deacon's, 
and  with  a  quaint  and  most  charming  sense  of 
the  ludicrousness  of  the  position  —  a  position 
of  which  he  himself  was  the  cause  and  central 
object.  He  fairly  represented  that  type  of  men 
who  combine  in  their  composition  that  which  is 
most  practical  and  imaginative  alike ;  whose 
energy  can  subdue  a  continent,  and  whose 
boastfulness  would  awaken  contempt  if  it  were 
not  palliated  by  the  magnitude  of  their  achieve 
ments.  A  humor  that  is  often  barbed,  but 
which  is  most  willingly  directed  against  one's 
self ;  but,  whether  directed  against  the  humorist 


28  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

or   his    neighbor,    carries    no    poison    upon   its 
point  and  leaves  no  wound  to  rankle. 

"  My  financial  condition,"  said  our  guest, 
resuming,  "  my  financial  condition  at  the  time 
I  made  this  final  investment  contributed  to  the 
hopefulness  of  my  mood,  and  made  me  feel  the 
excitement  of  a  reckless  speculation,  for,  though 
my  two  cows  only  cost  me  seventeen  dollars 
and  fifty  cents  each,  nevertheless,  when  the 
purchase  was  concluded,  and  the  goods  de 
livered,  and  I  had  made  a  careful  inventory  of 
my  remaining  assets,  —  a  business  proceeding 
which  the  average  Texan  found  it  necessary  to 
go  through  about  once  in  two  weeks,  in  order 
that  he  might  know  what  his  financial  standing 
was,  or  whether  he  had  any  standing  at  all,  — 
when,  I  say,  the  purchase  was  consummated, 
and  an  inventory  of  my  remaining  assets  made, 
I  discovered  that  the  two  cows  had  swallowed 
up  nearly  my  entire  estate,  and  that  a  few 
dollars  of  farther  expenditure  would  plunge  me 
into  bottomless  insolvency.  I  must  confess  that 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  29 

this  disclosure  of  my  financial  condition  added 
zest  to  the  undertaking,  and  filled  me  with  that 
fine  excitement  which  accompanies  a  desperate 
speculation.  I  have  always  felt  that  another 
cow  would  have  made  a  financier  of  me,  and 
that  I  could  have  taken  my  place  among  my 
brethren  in  Wall  Street  without  a  tremor  of  the 
muscles  or  the  least  sense  of  inferiority. 

"The  cows  were  both  black  in  color;  so 
black  that  they  would  make  a  spot  in  the  dark 
ness  of  the  blackest  night  that  ever  gloomed 
under  the  cypresses  of  the  Guadaloupe.  *  If 
those  cows,'  I  said  to  myself  as  I  looked  them 
over,  *  if  those  cows  ever  do  bring  forth  calves 
at  the  rate  that  the  Texan  of  whom  I  purchased 
them  figured  out  on  his  saddle,  they'll  put  the 
whole  State  under  an  eclipse.' 

"  I  cannot  say,  —  speaking  with  that  restraint 
which  I  have  always  cultivated,  —  I  cannot  say, 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  that  I  regarded  either 
cow.  with  any  great  affection.  There  were 
peculiarities  about  them,  which  checked  the 


30  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

outgoing  of  my  emotional  nature.  They  had  a 
way  of  looking  at  me  through  the  wire  fence, 
that  made  me  feel  grateful  to  the  inventor  of 
barbed  wire.  I  cannot  describe  the  look 
exactly.  It  was  a  direct,  earnest,  steady,  intense 
inspection  of  my  person,  that  made  me  feel  out 
of  place,  as  it  were,  and  caused  me  to  remember 
that  I  had  duties  at  home,  which  required  me 
to  get  there  as  rapidly  as  possible. 

"  One  morning,  seeing  that  the  basis  of  my 
speculation  was  near  the  centre  of  the  field, 
and  busily  feeding  on  the  bountiful  growths  of 
nature,  I  crept  softly  through  the  wires  of  the 
fence  that  I  might  gather  some  pecan  nuts 
under  a  big  tree  that  stood  some  twenty  rods 
away.  I  reached  the  tree  in  safety,  and  pro 
ceeded  to  pick  up  the  nuts.  I  had  filled  one 
pocket  only  when  I  heard  a  noise  behind  me, 
and,  looking  up,  I  saw  that  all  the  profits  of  my 
stock  speculation,  and  all  my  stock  itself,  were 
coming  toward  me  on  a  jump.  I  was  never 
more  collected  in  my  life.  My  mind  instantly 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  31 

reached  the  conclusion  that  the  pecan  crop  that 
year  was  so  large  in  Texas  that  it  would  not 
pay  to  pick  up  another  nut  under  that  tree ;  that 
the  whole  thing  should  stand  over,  as  it  were, 
until  another  fall,  and  that,  the  sooner  I  retired 
from  that  field,  the  better  it  would  be  for  me 
and  the  few  pecans  I  had  about  me. 

"Acting  in  harmony  with  this  conclusion,  - 
which  to  my  mind  carried  with  it  the  force  of  a 
demonstration,--!  started  for  the  wire  fence. 
I  have  no  doubt  but  that  the  line  of  my  move 
ment  was  absolutely  straight.  I  assure  you, 
gentlemen,  that  if  cows  had  multiplied  in  my 
business  connection  as  rapidly  as  they  did  in  my 
imagination  during  the  next  sixty  seconds  of 
time,  I  should  have  been  in  Texas  to  this  day. 
The  whole  field  was  actually  alive  with  cows.  I 
reached  the  fence  just  one  jump  ahead  of  the 
oldest  cow,  and,  seeing  no  reason  why  I  should 
take  time  to  crawl  through  between  the  wires, 
I  lifted  myself  over  the  airy  obstruction  in  a 
manner  that  must  have  convinced  that  old 


32  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

animated  bit  of  blackness  that  I  had  absolute 
ownership  in  every  nut  about  me.  This  little 
episode  supplied  me  with  material  for  reflection 
for  at  least  a  week,  and  made  me  realize  that  any 
northern  man  that  enters  into  a  speculation 
with  Texas  cows  as  a  basis  must  keep  his  eyes 
open,  and  not  allow  his  thoughts  to  be  diverted 
by  any  side  issues,  like  pecan  nuts,  while  the 
business  is  developing. 

"The  sixth  morning  after  my  speculation  had 
arrived  at  the  ranch,  my  profits  began  to  roll  in 
upon  me,  — or,  to  state  it  more  practically,  and 
in  a  business-like  manner,  the  oldest  cow  pro 
duced  a  calf.  This  raised  my  spirits,  and  made 
me  feel  that  my  business  was  fairly  started.  I 
went  to  my  stock-book  and  promptly  made  an 
entry  as  follows:  7523-1.  This  meant  that 
there  were  only  seven  thousand  five  hundred  and 
twenty-totf  yet  to  realize  on  ;  that  is,  if  seven 
thousand  five  hundred  and  twenty-two  calves 
should  promptly  come  to  time,  seeing  that  one 
calf  had  already  actually  come  to  time,  my  herd 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  33 

would  be  complete.  I  think,  gentlemen,  you 
can  readily  understand  my  feelings  as  I  stood 
contemplating  the  first  fruition  of  my  hopes 
from  behind  a  tree.  The  cow  was  securely  tied, 
but  still  from  habit  I  took  my  usual  position 
when  inspecting  my  stock.  My  mood  was  very 
hopeful.  I  felt  as  every  Texan  felt,  in  those 
days,  when  by  some  accident  he  found  himself 
in  possession  of  actual  property.  '  There  is  a 
calf,'  I  said  ;  '  I've  only  had  to  wait  six  days  for 
that  calf  to  materialize.  Suppose  another  calf 
should  materialize  in  six  days.'  I  extracted  a 
pencil  from  my  pocket  and  began  to  figure.  I 
multiplied  that  calf  by  six  —  I  mean  that  at  the 
end  of  six  days  I  multiplied  that  calf  by 
another  calf.  Every  time  I  put  down  a  new 
multiplier  I  took  a  look  at  the  calf,  and  every 
time  I  looked  at  the  calf  it  multiplied  itself,  as 
it  were,  until  I  felt  the  full  force  of  the  Texan's 
statement,  save  that,  the  more  I  multiplied,  the 
more  I  felt  that  seven  thousand  five  hundred 
and  twenty-three  did  not  fairly  represent  the 


34  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

certainties  of  the  speculation.  That  cow  would 
surely  make  a  millionnaire  of  me  yet  —  if 
nothing  happened. 

"  But,  gentleman,  something  did  happen,  and 
it  happened  in  this  wise  :  You  have  doubtless, 
by  this,  concluded  that  the  cow  was  a  wild  cow. 
The  man  who  sold  her  to  me  had  not  put  it 
precisely  that  way.  He  had  represented  her  to 
me  as  a  cow  of  mild  manners,  thoroughly 
domesticated,  of  the  sweetest  possible  temper, 
used  to  the  women  folks,  playful  with  children, 
-in  short,  a  creature  of  such  amiability  that  she 
actually  longed  to  be  petted.  But  I  had  already 
discovered  that  her  manners  were  somewhat 
abrupt,  and  that  either  the  man  did  not  under 
stand  the  nature  of  the  cow  or  I  did  not  un 
derstand  the  man.  I  was  convinced  that,  ii  she 
had  ever  been  domesticated,  it  had  been  done 
by  some  family  every  member  of  which  had 
died  in  the  process,  or  had  suddenly  moved  out 
of  the  country  only  a  short  distance  ahead  of 
her,  and  that  she  had  utterly  forgotten  her  early 


THE    BUSTED    EX -TEX  AN. 


35 


training.      Still,   I   had   no  doubt   but  that  her 
amiability  was  there,  although  temporarily  some 
what  latent,  and  that  the  influences  of  a  gentle 
spirit  would  revive  the  dormant  sensibilities  of 
her  nature.      'The  sight  of  a  milk-pail,'  I   said 
to  myself,  '  will  surely  awaken  the  reminiscences 
of  her  early  days,  and  of  that  sweet  home-life 
which  was  hers  when  she  yielded  at  morn  and 
at  night   her  glad   contribution   to   the  nourish 
ment  of  a  Christian  family.' 

'  There  was  on  my  ranch  a  servitor  of  foreign 
extraction  who  did  my  cooking  for  what  he 
could  eat,  —  Chin  Foo  by  name,  —  and  to  him 
I  called  to  bring  me  the  large  tin  pail,  which 
served  the  household  —  which,  like  most  Texan 
households  in  the  Tertiary  period,  so  to  speak, 
of  their  fortunes,  was  conducted  on  economic 
principles  — as  a  washtub,  a  chip-basket,  a 
water-bucket,  and  a  dinner-gong.  It  also 
occurred  to  me,  as  I  stood  looking  at  the  cow. 
and  rn  ught  the  spirit  of  her  expression,  so  to 
speak,  that,  as  she  had  come  to  stay,  was  a 


36  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

permanent  fixture  of  the  establishment,  as  it 
were,  Chin  Foo  might  as  well  do  the  milking 
first  as  last.  Moreover,  as  the  Texan  from 
whom  I  purchased  her  had  assured  me  that  she 
was  a  kind  of  household  pet,  the  children's 
friend,  and  took  to  women  folks  naturally,  the 
case  was  a  very  clear  one.  For,  as  Chin  Foo 
had  long  hair,  wore  no  hat,  and  dressed  in 
flowing  drapery,  the  cow,  unless  she  was  more 
of  a  physiologist  than  I  gave  her  credit  for, 
would  be  in  doubt  somewhat  as  to  the  sex  of 
the  Chinaman ;  and  before  she  had  time  to 
ruminate  upon  it  and  reach  a  dead-sure  conclu 
sion,  the  milking  would  be  over ;  and  I  would 
have  scored  the  first  point  in  the  game,  if  she 
was  a  cow  of  ability,  had  any  trumps,  and  was 
up  to  any  tricks,  as  it  were.  So  I  told  Chin 
Foo,  as  he  approached  with  the  pail  in  his 
hand,  that  the  cow  was  a  splendid  milker, 
thoroughly  domesticated,  accustomed  to  China 
men,  and  that  he  might  have  the  honor  of 
milking  her  first.  I  remarked,  furthermore,  that, 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  37 

as  everything  about  the  place  was  new  to  her, 
and  she  was  a  little  nervous,  I  would  gently 
attract  her  attention  in  front,  while  he  pro 
ceeded  to  extract  the  delicious  fluid.  I  charged 
him,  in  addition,  to  remember  that  it  was  always 
the  best  policy  to  approach  a  cow  of  her  tem 
perament  in  a  bold  and  indifferent  manner,  as 
if  he  had  milked  her  all  his  life,  and  get  down 
to  business  at  once  ;  and  that  any  hesitation  or 
show  of  nervousness  on  his  part  would  tend  to 
make  her  more  nervous. 

"  I  must  say  that  Chin  Foo  acted  in  a  highly 
creditable  manner,  considering  he  was  in  a 
strange  land,  and,  to  my  certain  knowledge,  had 
no  money  laid  by  for  funeral  expenses ;  for, 
while  I  was  stirring  the  dust  and  flourishing  my 
stick  in  a  desultory  manner  in  front  of  the  cow, 
to  divert  her  mind,  and  keep  her  thoughts  from 
wandering  backward  too  directly,  he  fluttered 
boldly  up  to  her,  and  laid  firmly  hold  of  two 
teats,  with  the  familiarity  of  an  old  acquaint 
ance." 


30  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

At  this  point  of  his  narration  the  stranger 
paused  a  moment.  There  was  a  sort  of  plain 
tive  look  on  his  face,  and  he  gazed  at  the  plates 
with  an  expression  in  his  eyes  of  sorrowful 
recollection. 

"  I  cannot  say,"  he  resumed,  as  one  who 
speaks  oppressed  with  a  sense  of  uncertainty, 
"  exactly  what  did  happen,  for  I  never  saw  the 
Chinaman  again  until  he  alighted.  I  only 
know  that  when  he  came  down  he  was  practi 
cally  inside  the  pail,  and  that  he  sat  in  it  a 
moment  with  a  kind  of  dreamy  eastern  look 
on  his  face,  as  if  he  lived  on  the  isle  of 
Patmos  and  had  seen  a  vision.  And  when  he 
had  crawled  out  of  the  pail  he  went  directly 
into  the  house,  saying,  '  The  Melican  man  is 
dam  foolee  to  try  to  milkee  that  cussee ! '  or 
words  to  that  effect. 

"  But  I  did  not  agree  with  him.  I  reflected 
that  the  Chinese  are  only  an  imitative  race,  and 
wholly  lacking  in  original  perception.  '  They 
never  invent  anything/  I  said ;  *  never  study 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  39 

into  causes,  never  get  down  to  principles,  as  it 
were.  It  requires  a  purely  occidental  intellect 
to  master  the  problem  before  me.  This  cow 
has  a  strong  disinclination  to  be  milked.  Why? 
What  is  the  motive  of  her  conduct  ?  If  I  could 
only  answer  that ! '  All  at  once  it  came  to  me, 
-came  like  a  flash.  The  reason  was  plain. 
*  This  cow  is  a  mother.  The  maternal  instinct 
in  her  case  is  beautifully  developed.  Her  rea 
soning  faculties  less  so.  She  has  a  calf.  To 
her  mind,  we  are  trying  to  rob  her  beloved 
offspring  of  its  nourishment.  She  naturally 
resents  this  injustice  on  our  part.  Beautiful 
development  of  maternity/  I  apostrophized, 
as  I  looked  at  the  cow  in  the  light  of  this 
new  revelation.  '  Thy  instincts  are  those  that 
sweeten  the  world,  and  remind  us  of  the 
benignity  that  planned  the  universe.  I  will 
bring  thy  calf  to  thee.  I  will  show  thee  that  I 
am  not  devoid  of  the  spirit  of  equity;  that 
I  am  ready  to  go  shares  and  play  fair,  as  it 
were.  Thy  calf  shall  take  one  side  of  thee.  I 


40  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

will  take  the  other,  and  thy  soul  will  come  forth 
to  me  in  gratitude !  ' 

"  I  was  delighted.  I  went  directly  to  the  pen, 
and  gazed  benevolently  at  the  calf.  The  little 
imp  was  blacker,  if  possible,  than  its  mother. 
There  was  that  same  peculiar  look  also  in  its 
eyes.  l  You're  all  hers  ! '  I  joyfully  cried,  '  you 
are  your  mother's  own  child ! '  I  seized  hold  of 
the  neck-rope.  I  opened  the  pen-door  and  I 
went  out  through  that  door  quicker  than  a 
vagrant  cat  ever  got  round  a  corner  of  a  house 
where  a  Scotch  terrier  boards.  The  calf  went 
under  the  cow  and  I  struck  her,  head  on.  But  I 
had  come  to  stay.  I  grabbed  the  pail  with  one 
hand  and  a  teat  with  the  other.  I  tugged  it, 
pulled  it,  twisted  it.  Not  a  drop  could  I  start. 
A  suction  pump  of  twenty  horse-power  would 
have  found  it  drier  than  Sahara,  and  all  the 
while  the  calf's  mouth,  on  the  other  side,  was 
actually  running  over  with  milk  !  In  two  min 
utes  he  looked  like  a  black  watermelon.  Then 
the  cow,  with  a  kind  of  back  action,  suddenly 


. 


AND  WHEN   I  CAME  DOWN." 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  41 

reached  out  one  foot,  and  when  I  came  to  I 
found  myself  facing  a  mulberry  tree,  with  one 
leg  on  each  side  of  it. 

"  By  this  time  I  had  reached  a  decision,  and  I 
had  the  courage  of  my  convictions.     I  felt  it  to 
be  my  duty  to  milk  that  cow.     I  reminded  her 
in  plain,  straightforward  language  that  I  was  the 
son    of  a  deacon,   and   that   she'd   find    it   out 
before  she  got  through  with  me.     I  assured  her 
that  I  understood  the  beauty  of  righteousness, 
and  that  I  held  a  strong  hand  —  a  straight  flush, 
as  it  were.     I  was  well  aware  that  the  metaphor 
was  somewhat  mixed  ;  but  it  expressed  my  sen 
timents  and  relieved  my  feelings,  and  so  I  fired 
it  at  her  point-blank.     She  snorted  and  pawed 
and  bellowed,  and  swore  at  me  in  cow-language, 
but  I  didn't  care  for  that.      So  I  shook  the  old, 
battered   milk-pail   in   her  face,  and   told   her  I 
was  born  in  Connecticut,  and  did  business  on 
spot-cash   principle  ;  and   that  she  would   know 
more  of  the  commandments  than    any  cow  of 
her   color    in    Texas,  before  we  said   our  long 
farewell. 


42  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

"  By  this  time  the  matter  had  attracted  a  good 
deal  of  attention,  for  I  had  carried  on  my  con 
versation  with  the  cow  in  the  voice  of  a  trage 
dian  when  the  chief  villain  of  the  play  has 
stolen  his  girl,  and  my  next  neighbor,  an  old 
sea-captain  from  Mattagorda  Bay,  and  his  hired 
men  had  come  over  to  assist  me.  They  were 
of  the  nature  of  a  reenforcement,  which  con 
sisted  of  the  captain,  a  Mexican,  a  Michigan 
man  that  stuttered,  and  two  negroes — Napoleon 
Bonaparte  de  Neville  Smith,  and  George 
Washington  Marlborough  Johnsing,  by  name. 
Hence  we  were  six  in  all,  and  I  decided  to  take 
the  offensive  at  once.  The  captain  was 
advanced  in  years  and  rheumatic,  but  a  clear 
headed  man,  used  to  command,  and  had 
4  boarded,'  as  he  expressed  it,  '  several  of  the 
-crafts  in  his  own  waters.'  So  I  put  him  in 
charge  of  the  marines,  namely,  ourselves,  and 
told  him  to  fight  the  ship  for  all  she  was  worth. 
He  caught  on  to  the  thing  at  once,  and  swore 
he  would  '  sweep  the  old  black  hulk  fore  and 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  43 

aft,  and  send  every  mother's  son  to  the  bottom, 
or  make  her  strike  her  colors.'  The  vigor  of 
the  gallant  old  gentleman's  language,  and  the 
noble  manner  in  which  he  shook  his  cane  at  the 
old  pirate,  put  us  all  in  good  spirits,  and  I  verily 
believe  that,  if  he  had  at  that  fortunate 
moment  given  the  word  4  board ! '  we  would, 
niggers  and  all,  have  gone  over  the  bulwarks  of 
that  old  cow  with  a  rush. 

"The  captain's  plan  of  action  was  proof  of  his 
courage,  and  in  harmony  with  my  own  ideas  of 
the  matter.  He  said  that  our  force  was  ample, 
every  gun  shotted,  and  the  ports  open  ;  that 
we  had  the  windward  gauge  of  her,  and  that 
the  proper  course  was  to  send  a  boat  in  to  cut 
her  cable,  and,  when  she  drifted  down  with  the 
current,  we  would  ware  ship,  lay  up  alongside, 
grapple,  pass  lashings  aboard,  and  send  the 
whole  crew  on  to  her  deck  with  a  rush. 
Assaulted  in  such  a  man-of-war  style,  he  was 
confident  she  would  become  confused,  be 
intimidated,  and  strike  her  colors  without  firing 


44  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

a  gun.  The  brave  and  sonorous  language  with 
which  our  commander  set  forth  his  plan  of 
assault  captured  our  imaginations,  and  we  all 
longed  for  the  moment  when  the  word  of 
command  should  permit  us  to  swarm  up  the 
sides  and  over  the  rail  of  the  old  bovine. 

"  Not  only  was  the  general  plan  thus  agreed 
upon,  but  each  man  had  his  post  of  duty 
assigned  to  him.  When  the  '  cable  was  cut/ 
that  is,  when  the  cow  should  find  herself  at 
liberty  and  bolt,  as  she  would  be  sure  to  do,  the 
Mexican  was  to  lasso  her  and  hang  on ; 
Napoleon  Bonaparte  de  Neville  and  George 
Washington  Marlborough  were  to  lay  hold  of 
her  horns  to  '  port  and  starboard,'  as  the  captain 
insisted,  while  the  Michigan  man  —  who  was 
over  six  feet  tall,  and  leggy — was  to  fasten 
with  a  good  grip  on  to  her  tail,  that  he  might 
serve  not  only  as  a  '  drag,'  as  our  commander 
phrased  it,  but  as  a  pilot  as  well,  '  if  she  should 
get  to  yawing  or  be  suddenly  taken  aback,  and 
be  unable  to  come  up  into  the  wind  promptly,' 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  45 

while  I  was  held  in  reserve  to  guard  against 
emergencies.  I  did  not  quite  like  the  position 
assigned  to  me,  and  so  intimated  to  the  captain, 
but  he  said  no  one  could  tell  how  it  might  go 
when  we  once  got  out  of  the  harbor,  and,  if  any 
of  the  braces  should  part,  or  the  sea  get  high, 
that  he  would  have  to  send  an  additional  man 
to  the  wheel,  '  for,'  he  added,  in  a  whisper,  *  God 
knows,  that  long-legged  Michigan  land-lubber 
could  never  keep  her  to  a  straight  course  if  she 
should  once  get  running  with  the  wind  over  her 
quarter,  and  everything  drawing,  through  that 
cornfield.'  I  saw  the  force  of  his  reasoning, 
and  felt  easier. 

44  So,  without  farther  delay,  we  went  into 
action.  The  old  captain  stood,  knife  in  hand, 
ready  to  cut  the  lariat  whn'ch  held  the  cow  to 
the  tree,  but,  before  he  did  so,  he  hailed,  4  All 
ready  to  cut  cables!  ' 

44  4  Fo'  de  lawd,  cap'in  ! '  yelled  Napoleon  de 
Neville,  4  what  is  dis  yere  nigger  gwine  to  do 
if  de  udder  nigger  lets  go  ? ' 


46  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

"  '  Go  way  dar,  nigger  !  '  retorted  George 
Washington  Marlborough ;  '  what  you  takes 
dis  nigger  for  if  you  tinks  I's  gwine  to  let  go 
dis  ole  black  cow  ?  ' 

"  '  I'll  give  a  silver  dollar  to  the  nigger  that 
holds  on  the  longest,'  I  yelled. 

44  '  Well  answered,  mate,'  sang  out  the  old 
captain.  '  All  ready  to  cut  cables.  Cut  she 

is!' 

"The  cow  gave  a  bellow  like  the  roar  of  a 
lion,  and  made  a  rush  with  lowered  horns  at  the 
captain.  Now,  this  was  not  the  course  laid 
down  on  his  chart  for  her  to  take  ;  and  he  and 
the  rest  of  us  were  struck  all  aback,  as  he  after 
wards  expressed  it ;  but  he  met  the  emergency 
with  spirit.  He  broke  his  big,  Spanish-oak 
stick  on  the  nose  of  the  brute,  and  then  the  old 
mariner  rolled  in  the  dust. 

4'  '  Lay  aboard  of  her,  men  !  '  shouted  the  old 
hero,  in  a  voice  like  a  fog-horn,  flourishing 
the  fragments  of  his  stick.  '  Lay  aboard  of 
the  old  cuss,  I  say!  Cast  your  grapplings, 


LAY  ABOARD  OF  THE  OLD  C 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  47 

Greaser !  Seize  her  helm,  some  of  ye,  and 
throw  it  hard  over  to  port ! ' 

"These  orders  were  obeyed  with  alacrity. 
Not  a  man  flinched.  The  loop  of  the  lasso 
settled  over  the  polished  horns  to  the  roots, 
and  Don  Juan  San  Diego  set  it  tight  with  a 
twang.  Napoleon  Bonaparte  and  George 
Washington  rushed  headlong  upon  her  and 
hung  to  horns  and  ears ;  while  the  man  from 
Michigan  fastened  a  grip  on  her  lifted  tail,  as 
she  tore  past  him,  which  straightened  him  out 
like  a  lathe.  As  to  myself,  I  could  only  stand 
and  gaze  with  solicitude  upon  the  terrific  con 
test,  on  the  issue  of  which  depended  not  only 
the  chances  of  my  speculation,  but  even  the 
preservation  of  my  self-esteem. 

"  The  combat  deepened  and  enlarged  itself,  as 
it  were.  A  bull-dog,  who  was  wandering  along 
the  road  in  search  of  adventure,  and  two  fox 
hounds  joined  in  the  fight.  The  calf,  the  only 
one  of  the  seven  thousand  five  hundred  and 
twenty- three  I  was  ever  destined  to  behold, 


48  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

broke  from  its  pen  and  ran  bellowing  to  its 
mother.  The  dogs  bayed,  the  niggers  yelled, 
the  Mexican  swore  in  his  delightful  tongue ; 
and  the  stuttering  Michigander  remained  silent, 
simply  from  his  inability  to  pronounce  the  pro 
fanity  of  his  feelings. 

"  Suddenly  the  cow,  which  had  been  slowly 
working  her  way,  with  her  several  attachments 
clinging  to  her,  toward  the  road  which  ran 
along  the  front  of  the  field,  turned  and  started 
pell-mell  toward  the  river,  which  flowed  wide 
and  deep,  through  the  rushes,  at  the  rear  of  it. 
She  left  the  path  and  took  to  the  corn,  and 
through  the  mass  of  growing  stalks  she  swept 
like  a  whirlwind.  Onward  she  came.  I  antici 
pated  the  awful  catastrophe,  and  stood  riveted 
to  the  spot.  The  old  captain  still  sat  in  the 
gravel,  where  the  cow  had  bowled  him,  his  hand 
grasping  the  shattered  cane,  and  his  game  leg 
extended.  He  too  foresaw  the  inevitable. 
Through  the  corn  came  the  cow,  like  a  black 
Saturn  attended  by  her  satellites.  But  her 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  49 

career  was  too  terrific  for  these  to  hold  to  their 
connection.  The  laws  of  the  universe  forbade 
it.  Napoleon  Bonaparte  de  Neville  lost  his 
hold  as  she  crashed  into  the  sorghum  patch. 
George  Washington  Marlborough  tripped  over 
an  irrigation  ditch,  and  soared  away  at  a  tan 
gent,  like  a  sputtering  remnant  of  a  burnt-out 
world.  Don  Juan  San  Diego  went  the  wrong 
side  of  a  mulberry  tree,  and  the  lasso  parted 
with  a  snap.  He  never  stopped  until  his 
momentum  carried  him  through  the  slats  of 
the  neighboring  cow-pen.  Only  the  long- 
legged  Michigander  kept  his  hold,  and  he  looked 
like  a  pair  of  extended  scissors.  I  stood  aghast 
at  the  impending  ruin  of  my  hopes,  with  my 
lower  jaw  dropped.  The  captain  alone  re 
tained  his  presence  of  mind.  As  the  black 
unit  of  my  last  Texan  speculation  shot  by 
him,  with  Michigan,  elongated  like  a  peninsula, 
fastened  to  her  tail,  he  rolled  up  to  his  knees 
and  roared  :  — 

44  '  Starboard  your   helm,  boy!       Luff  her 


-O  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

up!     Luff  her  up,  for  the    love  of  God,  or 
the  colonel  is  busted! ' 

"It  is  doubtful  if  the  Michigan  man  ever 
heard  the  stentorian  call  of  the  captain,  for 
sound  travels  only  thirteen  hundred  feet  to  the 
second,  and  the  cow  was  certainly  going  con 
siderably  faster  than  that ;  and,  besides,  he  was 
himself  engaged,  with  a  terrific  earnestness,  in  a 
vain  effort  to  extricate  a  word  out  of  his  throat, 
which  stuck  like  a  wad  in  a  smutty  gun  — a 
word  of  undoubted  Saxon  origin  and  of  expres 
sive  force,  and  which  has  saved  more  blood 
vessels  from  bursting  than  the  lancet  of  the 
phlebotomist,  for  as  he  streamed  past  there 
was  left  floating  upon  the  air  a  long  string  of 

d's,  thus  :  d d d— d— d— d-d-d  .  .  .  ! 

"  No  one  who  did  not  hear  them  could  ever 
conceive  of  the  awful  sputtering,  hissing  sound 
that  they  caused'  in  the  atmosphere  as  they 
came  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  mad  and  stutter 
ing  Michigander  ;  and  as  he  and  the  cow  bored  a 
hole  through  the  reeds  on  the  bank  of  the 


"LUFF  HER  UP!     LUFF  HER   UP! 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  51 

river,  and,  hitting  a  cypress  stump,  ricochetted 
into  the  water,  that  fiery  string  of  d's,  still  hot 
and  sputtering,  reached  half  across  the  field. 

"  The  splash  of  the  two  as  they  struck  the 
water  brought  the  old  captain  to  his  feet,  and,  in 
spite  of  his  rheumatic  leg,  he  rushed  toward  the 
river,  crying:  — 

"  4  Man  overboard  !  Man  overboard  I 
Gone  clean  over  the  forechains!  Life-floats  to 
port  and  starboard  ! ' 

"With  such  a  frightful  catastrophe,  gentle 
men,  the  remembrance  of  which  actually  makes 
me  nervous,  my  last  speculation  in  Texas  ended. 
Going  over  the  whole  matter  with  the  captain 
that  evening, — a  process  which  took  us  well 
into  the  night,  —  it  was  our  united  opinion  that 
the  speculation  was  a  failure.  This  conviction 
was  mutual  and  profound.  The  cow  was  not 
only  gone,  but  she  had  shown  such  disinclina 
tion  to  be  domesticated,  and  such  a  misappre 
hension  of  the  true  purpose  of  life,  that  the 
prospect  was  truly  disheartening. 


52  THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN. 

"  '  Why,  damn  it,  colonel,'  said  the  captain, 
*  we've  no  evidence  that  the  old  cow  wanted  to 
be  milked  ! ' 

"To  this  discouraging  conclusion  of  the 
captain's  I  was  compelled  to  give  a  sorrowful 
assent.  I  recognized  that  my  speculation  was 
in  arrears,  as  it  were,  and  that  it  would  never 
figure  up  a  profit. 

"  Therefore,  next  day  I  divided  my  few  per 
sonal  effects  between  the  captain  and  the  noble 
men  who  had  risked  their  lives  for  an  idea  ;  who 
had  seen  the  tragedy  played  out  and  the  curtain 
rung  down  to  my  last  appearance,  as  it  were. 
And,  with  the  few  dollars  which  alone  remained 
of  the  fortune  which  I  took  with  me  to  Texas, 
I  mounted  my  horse  and  started  northward,  to 
join  that  noble  army  of  martyrs,  that  brother 
hood  of  sufferers,  that  fraternity  of  the  busted, 
whose  members  are  legion,  and  who  are  known 
as  '  Ex-  Tex  an  s!  ' 

The  hilarity  of  the  camp  that  evening  under 
the  foot-hills  will  never  be  forgotten  by  those  of 
us  who  composed  the  happy  number,  and  who 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN.  53 

listened  with  streaming  eyes  and  aching  sides 
to  the  narrative  of  our  unfortunate  guest.  He 
told  his  story  with  a  directness  and  simplicity  of 
narrative,  with  a  gravity  of  countenance  and 
plaintiveness  of  voice,  which  heightened  the 
humor  of  the  substance.  Never  did  the  stars, 
which  have  seen  so  much  of  human  happiness, 
which  have  listened  to  so  much  of  the  rollicking 
humor  of  those  who  were  fashioned  for  laughter, 
looked  down  upon  a  jollier  camp.  Long  after 
our  guest  had  ended  his  narrative  and  was 
apparently  sleeping  in  happy  forgetfulness  of 
his  Texas  speculation,  succeeding  pauses  of 
silence  would  come  roars  of  laughter.  The 
remembrance  of  the  humorous  tale  banished 
sleep,  and,  even  after  slumber  had  fallen  on  us 
all,  fun  still  held  possession  of  our  dreams.  For 
Dick,  starting  from  sleep  in  a  nightmare  of 
hilarity,  roared  out:  "Luff  her  tip,  luff  her 
up,  or  the  colonel  is  busted  /" 

Ay,  ay,  thank  God  for  laughter.  Thank 
him  heartily  and  ever,  dear  friend,  blow  the 
winds,  run  the  tides  as  they  may.  The  sorrows 


54 


THE    BUSTED    EX-TEXAN 


of  life    may  be    many,   and    its   griefs    may  be 
keen,  and  we  who  are  frosted  with  years  and 
you  who  are  blooming  have  felt  and  will  feel  the 
sting  of  false  friends  and  the  burden  of  losses  ; 
but,  lose  what  we  may,  or  be  pained  as  we  have 
been  and  shall  be,  we  are  happy  in  this,  — we 
who  know  how  to  laugh,—  that  we  find  wings  for 
each  burden,  solace    for  pains,  and  return  for 
all  losses,  in  our  sweet  sense  of  humor,  thank 
Heaven !     So,  whether  rich  men  or  poor,  healthy 
or  sick,  brown-headed  or  gray,  we  will  go  on 
like  children,  with  eyes  for  all  beauty  and  hearts 
for  all   fun.     Let    lilies    teach   us,    and    of   the 
birds  of   the  air  let  us  learn.     The  day  that  is 
not  shall  not  make  us  anxious,  for  of  each  day 
is  the  evil  enough,  and  the  morrow  shall  take 
care  of  itself. 


HOW  DEACON  TUBMAN 

AND  PARSON  WHITNEY 
CELEBRATED  NEW  YEARS. 


HOW  DEACON  TUBMAN  AND  PAR 
SON  WHITNEY  CELEBRATED  NEW 
YEAR'S. 


MIRANDY,  I'm  going  up  to  see  the  par 
son,"  exclaimed  the  deacon,  when  the 
morning  devotions  were  over,  "  and  see  if  I 
can  thaw  him  out  a  little.  I've  heard  that  there 
used  to  be  a  lot  in  him  in  his  younger  days,  but 
he's  sort  of  frozen  all  up  latterly,  and  I  can  see 
that  the  young  folks  are  afraid  of  him  and  the 
church  too,  but  that  won't  do  —  no,  it  won't  do," 
repeated  the  good  man  emphatically,  "  for  the 
minister  ought  to  be  loved  by  young  and  old, 
rich  and  poor,  and  everybody ;  and  a  church 
without  young  folks  in  it  is,  why,  it  is  like  a 
family  with  no  children  in  it.  Yes,  I'll  go  up 
and  wish  him  a  Happy  New  Year  anyway. 

55 


56       DEACON    TUBMAN    AND   PARSON  WHITNEY. 

Perhaps  I  can  get  him  out  for  a  ride  to  make 
some  calls  on  the  people,  and  see  the  young- 
folks  at  their  fun.  It'll  do  him  good,  and  them 
good,  and  me  good,  and  everybody  good." 
Saying  which,  the  deacon  got  inside  his  warm 
fur  coat,  and  started  toward  the  barn  to  harness 
Jack  into  the  worn;  old-fashioned  sleigh,  which 
sleigh  was  built  high  in  the  back,  and  had  a 
curved  dasher  of  monstrous  proportions,  orna 
mented  with  a  prancing  horse  in  an  impossible 
attitude,  done  in  bright  vermilion  on  a  blue 
background ! 

"  Happy  New  Year  to  you,  Parson  Whitney! 
Happy  New  Year  to  you,"  cried  the  deacon,  as 
he  stood  in  the  doorway  of  the  parsonage  and 
shook  the  parson  by  the  hand  enthusiastically, 
"  and  may  you  live  to  enjoy  a  hundred." 

"  Come  in,  come  in,"  cried  Parson  Whitney, 
in  response.  "  I'm  glad  you've  come  ;  I'm  glad 
you've  come.  I've  been  wanting  to  see  you  all 
the  morning,"  and  in  the  cordiality  of  his  greet 
ing  he  literally  pulled  the  little  man  through  the 


DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY.       57 

doorway  into  the  hall,  and  hurried  him  up  the 
stairway  to  his  study  in  the  chamber  overhead. 

"Thinking  of  me!  Well,  now,  I  never!" 
exclaimed  the  deacon,  as,  assisted  by  the  parson, 
he  twisted  and  wriggled  himself  out  of  his  coat, 
that  he  filled  a  little  too  snugly  for  an  easy  exit. 
"  Thinking  of  me,  and  among  all  these  books 
too  _  Bibles,  catechisms,  tracts,  theologies,  ser 
mons.  Well,  well,  that  is  funny.  What  made 
you  think  of  me  ?  " 

"  Deacon  Tubman,"  responded  the  parson,  as 
he  seated  himself  in  his  armchair,  "  I  want  to 
talk  with  you  about  the  church." 

"The  church!"  ejaculated  the  deacon  in 
response.  "  Nothing  going  wrong,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  Yes,  things  are  going  wrong,  deacon,"  re 
sponded  the  parson.  "The  congregation  is 
growing  smaller  and  smaller,  and  yet  I  preach 
good,  strong,  biblical,  soul-satisfying  sermons,  I 
trust." 

"  Good  ones  !  good  ones  !  "  answered  the 
deacon  promptly,  <k  never  better  —  never  better 
in  the  world." 


58        DEACON    TUB  MAN    AND    PARSON   WHITNEY. 

"  And  yet  the  people  are  deserting  the  sanc 
tuary,"  rejoined  the  parson  solemnly,  "  and  the 
young  people  won't  come  to  the  sociables,  and 
the  little  children  seem  actually  afraid  of  me. 
What  shall  I  do,  deacon  ? "  and  the  good  man 
put  the  question  with  pathetic  emphasis. 

il  You've  hit  the  nail  on  the  head,  square  as  a 
hatchet,  parson,"  responded  the  deacon.  "The 
congregation  is  thinning.  The  young  people 
don't  come  to  the  meetings,  and  the  little  chil 
dren  are  afraid  of  you." 

"What's  the  matter,  deacon?"  cried  the  par 
son  in  return.  "What  is  it?"  he  repeated 
earnestly.  4t  Speak  it  right  out  ;  don't  try  to 
spare  my  feelings.  I  will  listen  to  —  I  will  do 
anything  to  win  back  my  people's  love,"  and 
the  strong,  old-fashioned  Calvinistic  preacher 
said  it  in  a  voice  that  actually  trembled. 

"  You  can  do  it  —  you  can  do  it  in  a  week !  " 
exclaimed  the  deacon  encouragingly.  "  Don't 
worry  about  it,  parson ;  it'll  be  all  right,  it'll  be 
all  right.  Your  books  are  the  trouble." 


DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY.       59 

"Books?"  ejaculated  the  parson.  "What 
have  they  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  Everything,"  replied  the  deacon  stoutly. 
"  You  pore  over  them  day  in  and  day  out ;  they 
keep  you  in  this  room  here  when  you  should  be 
out  among  the  people,  —  not  making  pastoral 
visits?  —  I  don't  mean  that,  — but  going  around 
among  them,  chatting  and  joking  and  having  a 
good  time.  They  would  like  it,  and  you  would 
like  it,  and  as  for  the  young  folks  —  how  old 
are  you,  parson  ?  " 

"Sixty  next  month,"  answered  the  parson; 
"  sixty  next  month,"  he  repeated  solemnly. 

"  Thirty  !  thirty  !  that's  all  you  are,  parson,  or 
all  you  ought  to  be,"  cried  the  deacon.  "  Thirty, 
twenty,  sixteen  !  —  let  the  figures  slide  down 
and  up,  according  to  circumstances,  but  never 
let  them  go  higher  than  thirty  when  you  are 
dealing  with  young  folks.  I'm  sixty  myself, 
counting  years;  but  I'm  only  sixteen,  sixteen 
this  morning,  that's  all,  parson,"*'  and  he  rubbed 
his  little  round  plump  hands  together,  looked  at 
the  parson,  and  winked. 


6O       DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY. 

"  Bless  my  soul.  Deacon  Tubman,  I  don't 
know  but  that  you  are  right !  "  answered  the 
parson.  "  Sixty?  I  don't  know  as  I  am  sixty," 
and  he  began  to  rub  his  own  hands,  and  came 
within  an  ace  of  executing  a  wink  at  the  deacon, 
himself. 

"  Not  a  day  over  twenty,  if  I  am  any  judge 
of  age,"  responded  the  deacon  deliberately,  as 
he  looked  the  white-headed  old  minister  over 
with  a  most  comic  imitation  of  seriousness. 
11  Not  a  day  over  twenty,  on  my  honor,"  and 
the  deacon  leaned  forward  toward  the  parson, 
and  gave  him  a  punch  with  his  thumb,  as  one 
boy  might  deliver  a  punch  at  another,  and  then 
he  lay  back  in  his  chair  and  laughed  so  heartily 
that  the  parson  caught  the  infectious  mirth  and 
roared  away  as  heartily  as  himself. 

Yes,  it  was  impossible  to  sit  hobnobbing  with 
the  little,  jolly  deacon  on  that  bright  New  Year's 
morning  and  not  be  affected  by  the  happiness 
of  his  mood,  for  he  was  actually  bubbling  over 
with  fun,  and  as  full  of  frolic  as  if  the  finger 


DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY.       6 1 

on  the  dial  had,  in  truth,  gone  back  forty-odd 
years,  and  he  was  "  only  sixteen.  Only  six 
teen,  parson,  on  my  honor." 

"  But  what  can  I  do?"  queried  the  good 
man,  sobering  down.  "  I  make  my  pastoral 
visits." 

"  Pastoral  visits ! "  responded  Deacon  Tubman. 
"  Oh,  yes,  and  they  are  all  well  enough  for  the 
old  folks,  but  they  ar'n't  the  kind  of  biscuit 
the  young  folks  like  —  too  heavy  in  the  centre, 
and  over-hard  in  the  crust  for  young  teeth,  eh, 
parson  ?  " 

14  But  what  shall  I  do  ?  what  shall  I  do?" 
reiterated  the  parson,  somewhat  despondently. 

"  Oh  !  put  on  your  hat,  and  gloves,  and 
warmest  coat,  and  come  along  with  me.  We 
will  see  what  the  young  folks  are  doing,  and 
will  make  a  day  of  it.  Come !  come  !  let  the 
old  books,  and  catechisms,  and  sermons,  and 
tracts  have  a  respite  for  once,  and  we'll  spend 
the  day  out-of-doors,  with  the  boys  and  girls 
and  the  people." 


62        DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY. 

"  I'll  do  it !  "  exclaimed  the  parson.  "  Deacon 
Tubman,  you  are  right.  I  do  keep  to  my  study 
too  closely.  1  don't  see  enough  of  the  world 
and  what's  going  on  in  it.  I  was  reading  the 
Testament  this  morning,  aad  I  was  impressed 
with  the  Master's  manner  of  living  and  teach 
ing.  It  is  not  certain  that  he  ever  preached 
more  than  twice  in  a  church  during  all  his  min 
istry  on  the  earth.  And  the  children !  how 
much  he  loved  the  children,  and  how  the  little 
ones  loved  him  !  And  why  shouldn't  they  love 
me,  too?  Why  shouldn't  they?  I'll  make 
them  do  it!  yes,  I'll  make  them  do  it!  The 
lambs  of  my  flock  shall  love  me."  And  with 
these  brave  words  Parson  Whitney  bundled 
himself  up  in  his  warmest  garments,  and  fol 
lowed  the  deacon  downstairs. 

"Tell  the  folks  that  you  won't  be  back  till 
night,"  called  the  deacon  from  the  sleigh; 
"  for  this  is  New  Year,  and  we're  going  to 
make  a  day  of  it,"  and  he  laughed  away  as 
heartily  as  might  be — so  heartily  that  the  par- 


DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY.       63 

son  joined  in  the  laughter  himself  as  he  came 
shuffling  down  the  icy  path  toward  him.  "  Bless 
me!  how  much  younger  I  feel  already!"  said  the 
good  man  as  he  stood  up  in  the  sleigh,  and 
with  a  long,  strong  breath  breathed  the  cool, 
pure  air  into  his  lungs.  "  Bless  me !  how  much 
younger  I  feel  already ! "  he  repeated,  as  he 
settled  down  into  the  roomy  seat  of  the  old 
sleigh.  "  Only  sixteen  to-day,  —  eh,  deacon  ?  " 
and  he  nudged  him  with  his  elbow. 

"  That's  all,  that's  all,  parson,"  answered  the 
deacon  gayly,  as  he  nudged  him  vigorously 
back ;  "  that's  all  we  are,  either  of  us,"  and, 
laughing  as  merrily  as  two  boys,  the  two  glided 
away  in  the  sleigh. 

Well,  perhaps  they  didn't  have  fun  that  day, 
these  two  old  boys  that  had  started  out  with 
the  feeling  that  they  were  "  only  sixteen,"  and 
bound  to  make  "  a  day  of  it !  "  And  they  did 
make  a  day  of  it,  in  fact,  and  such  a  day  as 
neither  had  had  for  forty  years  ;  for,  first,  they 
went  to  Bartlett's  Hill,  where  the  boys  and 


64       DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON   WHITNEY. 

girls  were  coasting,  and  coasted  with  them  for 
a  full  hour,  —  and  then  it  was  discovered  by 
the  younger  portion  of  his  flock  that  the  par 
son  was  not  an  old,  stiff,  solemn,  surly  poke,  as 
they  had  thought,  but  a  pleasant,  good-natured, 
kindly  soul,  who  could  take  and  give  a  joke, 
and  steer  a  sled  as  well  as  the  smartest  boy 
in  the  crowd  ;  and  when  it  came  to  snow-ball 
ing,  he  could  send  a  ball  further  than  Bill 
Sykes  himself,  who  could  out-throw  any  boy  in 
town,  and  roll  up  a  bigger  block  to  the  new 
snow  fort  they  were  building  than  any  three 
boys  among  them.  And  how  the  parson  en 
joyed  being  a  boy  again  !  How  exhilarating 
the  slide  down  the  steep  hill;  how  invigorating 
the  pure,  cool  air ;  how  pleasant  the  noise 
of  the  chatting  and  joking  going  on  around 
him  ;  how  bright  and  sweet  the  boys  and  girls 
looked,  with  their  rosy  cheeks  and  sparkling 
eyes ;  and  how  the  old  parson's  heart  thrilled  as 
they  crowded  around  him  when  he  would  go, 
and  urged  him  to  stay,  —  and  little  Alice  Dor- 


DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY.       65 

Chester  begged  him,  with  her  little  arms  around 
his  neck,  to  44jes'  stay  and  gib  me  one  more 
slide,  please  !  " 

44  You  never  made  such  a  pastoral  call  as 
that,  parson,"  said  the  deacon,  as  they  drove 
away  p.mid  the  cheers  of  the  boys  and  the 
44  good-bys "  of  the  girls,  while  the  former 
fired  off  a  volley  of  snow-balls  in  his  honor, 
and  the  latter  waved  their  muffs  and  handker 
chiefs  after  them. 

44  God  bless  them  !  God  bless  them  !  "  said  the 
parson.  44  They  have  lifted  a  load  from  my  heart, 
and  taught  me  the  sweetness  of  life,  of  youth, 
and  the  wisdom  of  Him  who  took  the  little  ones 
in  His  arms,  and  blessed  them.  Ah,  deacon," 
he  added,  44  I've  been  a  great  fool,  but  I'll  be 
so,  thank  God  !  no  more." 

Now,  old  Jack  was  a  horse  of  a  great  deal  of 
character,  and  had  a  great  history ;  but  of  this 
none  in  that  section,  save  the  little  deacon, 
knew  a  word.  Dick  Tubman,  the  deacon's 
youngest,  wildest,  and,  we  might  add,  favorite 


66       DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY. 

son,  had  purchased  him  of  an  impecunious 
jockey,  at  the  close  of  a  disastrous  cam 
paign,  that  cleaned  him  completely  out,  and 
left  him  in  a  strange  city  a  thousand  miles  from 
home,  with  nothing  but  the  horse,  harness,  and 
sulky,  and  a  list  of  unpaid  bills  that  must  be 
met  before  he  could  leave  the  scene  of  his  dis 
astrous  fortunes.  Under  such  circumstances  it 
was  that  Dick  Tubman  ran  across  the  horse, 
and  partly  out  of  pity  for  its  owner,  and  partly 
out  of  admiration  of  the  horse,  whose  failure  to 
win  at  the  races  was  due  more  to  his  lack  of 
condition  and  the  bad  management  of  his  jockey 
than  lack  of  speed,  bought  him  off-hand,  and, 
having  no  use  for  him  himself,  shipped  him  as 
a  present  to  the  deacon,  with  whom  he  had  now 
been  four  years,  with  no  harder  work  than 
ploughing  out  the  good  old  man's  corn  in  the 
summer,  and  jogging  along  the  country  roads 
on  the  deacon's  errands.  Having  said  thus 
much  of  the  horse,  perhaps  we  should  more 
particularly  describe  him. 


DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON   WHITNEY.       67 

He  was,  in  sooth,  an  animal  of  most  unique 
and  extraordinary  appearance  ;  for,  in  the  first 
place,  he  was  quite  seventeen  hands  in  height, 
and  long  in  proportion.  He  was  also  the 
reverse  of  shapely  in  the  fashion  of  his  build  : 
for  his  head  was  long  and  bony,  and  his  hip 
bones  sharp  and  protuberant ;  his  tail  was  what 
is  known  among  horsemen  as  a  rat-tail,  being 
but  scantily  covered  with  hair,  and  his  neck  was 
even  more  scantily  supplied  with  a  mane,  while 
in  color  he  could  easily  have  taken  any  pre 
mium  put  up  for  homeliness,  being  an  ashen 
roan,  mottled  with  flecks  and  patches  of  divers 
hues;  but  his  legs  were  flat  and  corded  like  a 
racer's,  his  neck  long  and  thin  as  a  thorough 
bred's,  his  nostrils  large,  his  ears  sharply  pointed 
and  lively,  while  the  white  rings  around  his  eyes 
hinted  at  a  cross,  somewhere  in  his  pedigree, 
with  Arabian  blood.  A  huge,  bony,  homely- 
looking  horse  he  was,  who  drew  the  deacon  and 
Miranda  into  the  village  on  market  days  and 
Sundays,  with  a  loose,  shambling  gait,  making 


68       DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY. 

altogether  an  appearance  so  homely  and  pecul 
iar  that  the  smart  village  chaps  riding  along  in 
their  jaunty  turn-outs  used  to  chaff  the  good 
deacon  on  the  character  of  his  steed,  and 
satirically  challenge  him  to  a  brush.  The  dea 
con  always  took  their  badinage  in  good  part, 
although  he  inwardly  said  more  than  once,  "  If 
I  ever  get  a  good  chance,  when  there  ar'n't  too 
many  around,  I'll  go  up  to  the  turn  of  the  road 
beyond  the  church,  and  let  Jack  out  on  them  ;  " 
for  Dick  had  given  him  a  hint  of  the  horse's 
history,  and  told  him  "  he  could  knock  the  spots 
out  of  thirty,"  and  wickedly  urged  the  deacon 
to  take  the  starch  out  of  them  airy  chaps  some 
of  these  days.  Such  was  the  horse,  then,  that 
the  deacon  had  ahead  of  him,  and  the  old- 
fashioned  sleigh,  when,  with  the  parson  along 
side,  he  struck  into  the  principal  street  of  the 
village. 

Now,  New  Year's  Day  is  a  lively  day  in  many 
country  villages,  and  on  this  bright  one  espe 
cially,  as  the  sleighing  was  perfect,  everybody 


DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON   WHITNEY.       69 

was  out.  Indeed,  it  had  got  noised  abroad  that 
certain  trotters  of  local  fame  were  to  be  on  the 
street  that  afternoon,  and,  as  the  boys  worded 
it,  "  there  would  be  heaps  of  fun  going  on." 
And  so  it  happened  that  everybody  in  town, 
and  many  who  lived  out  of  it,  were  on  this  par 
ticular  street,  and  just  at  the  hour,  too,  when 
the  deacon  came  to  the  foot  of  it,  so  that  the 
walk  on  either  side  was  lined  darkly  with  lookers- 
on,  and  the  smooth  snow-path  between  the  two 
lines  looked  like  a  veritable  homestretch  on  a 
race-day. 

Now,  when  the  deacon  had  reached  the 
corner  of  the  main  street  and  turned  into  it,  it 
was  at  that  point  where  the  course  terminated 
and  the  "  brushes "  were  ended,  and  at  the 
precise  moment  when  the  dozen  or  twenty 
horses  that  had  just  come  flying  down  were 
being  pulled  up  preparatory  to  returning  at  a 
slow  gait  to  the  customary  starting-point  at  the 
head  of  the  street,  a  half-mile  away,  so  that 
the  old-fashioned  sleigh  was  surrounded  by  the 


70       DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY. 

light,  fancy  cutters  of  the  rival  racers,  and  old 
Jack  was  shambling  awkwardly  along  in  the 
midst  of  the  high-spirited  and  smoking  nags 
that  had  just  come  flying  down  the  stretch. 

44  Hellow,  deacon,"  shouted  one  of  the  boys, 
who  was  driving  a  trim-looking  bay,  and  who 
had  crossed  the  line  at  the  ending  of  the  course 
second  only  to  a  pacer  that  could  "  speed  like  a 
streak  of  lightning,"  as  the  boys  said,  —  "  Hel 
low,  deacon  ;  ain't  you  going  to  shake  out  old 
shamble-heels,  and  show  us  fellows  what  speed 
is  to-day  ?  "  And  the  merry-hearted  chap,  son 
of  the  principal  lawyer  of  the  place,  laughed 
heartily  at  his  challenge,  while  the  other  drivers 
looked  at  the  great  angular  horse  that,  without 
any  check,  was  walking  carelessly  along,  with 
his  head  held  down,  ahead  of  the  old  sleigh 
and  its  churchly  occupants. 

44  I  don't  know  but  what  1  will,"  answered  the 
deacon,  good-naturedly  ;  "  don't  know  but  what 
I  will,  if  the  parson  don't  object,  and  you  won't 
start  off  too  quick  to  begin  with  ;  for  this  is 


DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY.        71 

New  Year's,  and  a  little  extra  fun  won't  hurt 
any  of  us,  I  reckon." 

"  Do  it,  do  it ;  we'll  hold  up  for  you,"  an 
swered  a  dozen  merry  voices.  "  Do  it,  deacon  : 
it'll  do  old  shamble-heels  good  to  go  a  ten-mile- 
an-hour  gait  for  once  in  his  life,  and  the  parson 
needn't  fear  of  being  scandalized  by  any  speed 
you'll  get  out  of  him,  either ;  "  and  the  merry 
chaps  haw-hawed  as  men  and  boys  will,  when 
every  one  is  jolly  and  fun  flows  fast. 

And  so,  with  any  amount  of  good-natured 
chaffing  from  the  drivers  of  the  "  fast  'uns,"  and 
from  many  that  lined  the  road  too,  —  for  the 
day  gave  greater  liberty  than  usual  to  bantering 
speech,  —  the  speedy  ones  paced  slowly  up  to 
the  head  of  the  street,  with  old  Jack  shambling 
demurely  in  the  midst  of  them. 

But  the  horse  was  a  knowing  old  fellow,  and 
had  "  scored  "  at  too  many  races  not  to  know 
that  the  <4  return "  was  to  be  leisurely  taken, 
and,  indeed,  he  was  a  horse  of  independence, 
and  of  too  even,  perhaps  of  too  sluggish,  a 


72        DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY. 

temperament,  to  waste  himself  in  needless 
action  ;  but  he  had  the  right  stuff  in  him,  and 
hadn't  forgotten  his  early  training  either,  for 
when  he  came  to  the  "  turn,"  his  head  and  tail 
came  up,  his  eye  brightened,  and,  with  a  playful 
movement  of  his  huge  body,  and  without  the 
least  hint  from  the  deacon,  he  swung  himself 
and  the  cumbrous  old  sleigh  into  line,  and 
began  to  straighten  himself  for  the  coming 
brush. 

Now,  Jack  was,  as  we  have  said,  a  horse  of 
huge  proportions,  and  needed  "steadying"  at 
the  start,  but  the  good  deacon  had  no  experi 
ence  with  the  "  ribbons,"  and  was  therefore 
utterly  unskilled  in  the  matter  of  driving ;  and 
so  it  came  about  that  old  Jack  was  so  confused 
at  the  start  that  he  made  a  most  awkward  and 
wretched  appearance  in  his  effort  to  get  off, 
being  all  "  mixed  up,"  as  the  saying  is,  —  so 
much  so  that  the  crowd  roared  at  his  ungainly 
efforts,  and  his  flying  rivals  were  twenty  rods 
away  before  he  even  got  started.  But  at  last 


DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY.       73 

he  got  his  huge  body  in  a  straight  line,  and, 
leaving  his  miserable  shuffle,  squared  away  to 
his  work,  and,  with  head  and  tail  up,  went  off 
at  so  slashing  a  gait  that  it  fairly  took  the  dea 
con's  breath  away,  and  caused  the  crowd  that 
had  been  hooting  him  to  roar  their  applause, 
while  the  parson  grabbed  the  edge  of  the  old 
sleigh  with  one  hand  and  the  rim  of  his  tall 
black  hat  with  the  other. 

What  a  pity,  Mr.  Longface,  that  God  made 
horses  as  they  are,  and  gave  them  such  gran 
deur  of  appearance  when  in  action,  and  put 
such  an  eagle-like  spirit  between  their  ribs,  so 
that,  quitting  the  plodding  motions  of  the  ox, 
they  can  fly  like  that  noble  bird,  and  come 
sweeping  down  the  course  as  on  wings  of  the 
wind  ! 

It  was  not  my  fault,  nor  the  deacon's,  nor  the 
parson's  either,  please  remember,  then,  that 
awkward,  shuffling,  homely-looking  old  Jack 
was  thus  suddenly  transformed,  by  the  royalty 
of  blood,  of  pride,  and  of  speed  given  him  by 


74       DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY. 

his  Creator,  from  what  he  ordinarily  was,  into 
a  magnificent  spectacle  of  energetic  velocity. 

With  muzzle  lifted  well  up,  tail  erect,  the  few 
hairs  in  it  streaming  straight  behind,  one  ear 
pricked  forward  and  the  other  turned  sharply 
back,  the  great  horse  swept  grandly  along  at  a 
pace  that  was  rapidly  bringing  him  even  with 
the  rear  line  of  the  flying  group.  And  yet  so 
little  was  the  pace  to  him  that  he  fairly  gam 
bolled  in  playfulness  as  he  went  slashing  along, 
until  the  deacon  verily  began  to  fear  that  the 
honest  old  chap  would  break  through  all  the 
bounds  of  propriety  and  send  his  heels  antically 
through  his  treasured  dashboard.  Indeed,  the 
spectacle  that  the  huge  horse  presented  was  so 
magnificent,  his  action  so  free,  spirited,  and 
playful,  as  he  came  sweeping  onward,  that 
cheers  and  exclamations,  such  as,  "  Good 
heavens!  see  the  deacon's  old  horse!  "  t4  Look 
at  him  !  look  at  him  !  "  "  What  a  stride  !  "  etc., 
ran  ahead  of  him,  and  old  Bill  Sykes,  a  trainer 
in  his  day,  but  now  a  hanger-on  at  the  village 


DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY.        75 

tavern,  or  that  section  of  it  known  as  the  bar, 
wiped  his  watery  eyes  with  his  tremulous  fist, 
as  he  saw  Jack  come  swinging  down,  and,  as  he 
swept  past  with  his  open  gait,  powerful  stroke, 
and  stiffles  playing  well  out,  brought  his  hand 
with  a  mighty  slap  against  his  thigh,  and  said, 
"  I'll  be  blowed  if  he  isn't  a  regular  old  timer  !  " 
It  was  fortunate  for  the  deacon  and  the  par 
son  that  the  noise  and  cheering  of  the  crowd 
drew  the  attention  of  the  drivers  ahead,  or  there 
would  surely  have  been  more  than  one  collision, 
for  the  old  sleigh  was  of  such  size  and  strength, 
the  good  deacon  so  unskilled  at  the  reins,  and 
Jack,  who  was  adding  to  his  momentum  with 
every  stride,  was  going  at  so  determined  a  pace, 
that,  had  he  struck  the  rear  line,  with  no  gap  for 
him  to  go  through,  something  serious  would 
surely  have  happened.  But,  as  it  was,  the 
drivers  saw  the  huge  horse,  with  the  cumbrous 
old  sleigh  behind  him,  bearing  down  on  them 
at  such  a  gait  as  made  their  own  speed,  sharp 
as  it  was,  seem  slow,  and  "  pulled  out"  in  time 


76       DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY. 

to  save  themselves ;  and  so  without  any  mishap 
the  big  horse  and  heavy  sleigh  swept  through 
the  rear  row  of  racers  like  an  autumn  gust 
through  a  cluster  of  leaves. 

By  this  time  the  deacon  had  become  some 
what  alarmed,  for  Jack  was  going  nigh  to  a 
thirty  clip,  —  a  frightful  pace  for  an  inexperi 
enced  man  to  ride,  —  and  began  to  put  a 
good  strong  pressure  upon  the  bit,  not  doubting 
that  old  Jack  —  ordinarily  the  easiest  horse  in 
the  world  to  manage  —  would  take  the  hint 
and  immediately  slow  up.  But  though  the 
huge  horse  took  the  hint,  it  was  exactly  in 
the  opposite  manner  that  the  deacon  intended 
he  should,  for  he  interpreted  the  little  man's 
steady  pull  as  an  intimation  that  his  inexperi 
enced  driver  was  getting  over  his  flurry  and 
beginning  to  treat  him  as  a  big  horse  ought  to  be 
treated  in  a  race,  and  that  he  could  now,  having 
got  settled  to  his  work,  go  ahead.  And  go 
ahead  he  did.  The  more  the  deacon  pulled, 
the  more  the  great  horse  felt  himself  steadied 


DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY.        77 

and  assisted.  And  so,  the  harder  the  good  man 
tugged  at  the  reins,  the  more  powerfully  the 
machinery  of  the  big  animal  ahead  of  him 
worked,  until  the  deacon  got  alarmed,  and 
began  to  call  upon  the  horse  to  stop,  crying, 
44  Whoa,  Jack!  whoa,  old  boy,  I  say!  Whoa, 
will  you  now,  that's  a  good  fellow  !  "  and  many 
other  coaxing  calls,  while  he  pulled  away 
steadily  at  the  reins. 

But  the  horse  misunderstood  the  deacon's 
calls,  as  he  had  his  pressure  on  the  reins,  for 
the  crowd  on  either  side  were  now  yelling,  and 
hooting,  and  swinging  their  caps,  so  that  the 
deacon's  voice  came  indistinctly  to  his  ears  at 
the  best,  and  he  interpreted  his  calls  for  him  to 
stop  as  only  so  many  encouragements  and 
signals  for  him  to  go  ahead ;  and  so,  .with  the 
memory  of  a  hundred  races  stirring  his  blood, 
the  crowd  cheering  him  to  the  echo,  the  steady 
ing  pull  and  encouraging  cries  of  his  driver  in 
his  ears,  and  his  only  rival,  the  pacer,  whirling 
along  only  a  few  rods  ahead  of  him,  the  mon- 


78       DEACON    TUBMAX    AND     PARSON  WHITNEY. 

strous  animal,  with  a  desperate  plunge  that 
half  lifted  the  old  sleigh  from  the  snow,  let  out 
another  link,  and,  with  such  a  burst  of  speed 
as  was  never  seen  in  the  village  before,  tore 
along  after  the  pacer  at  such  a  terrific  pace 
that,  within  the  distance  of  a  dozen  lengths,  he 
lay  lapped  upon  him,  and  the  two  were  going 
it  nose  and  nose. 

What  is  that  feeling  in  human  hearts  which 
makes  us  sympathetic  with  man  or  animal  who 
has  unexpectedly  developed  courage  and  capa 
city  when  engaged  in  a  struggle  in  which  the 
odds  are  against  him  ?  And  why  do  we  enter 
so  spiritedly  into  the  contest,  and  lose  ourselves 
in  the  excitement  of  the  moment  ?  Is  it  pride  ? 
Is  it  the  comradeship  of  courage  ?  Or  is  it  the 
rising  of  the  indomitable  in  us,  that  loves  noth 
ing  so  much  as  victory,  and  hates  nothing  so 
much  as  defeat  ?  Be  that  as  it  may,  no  sooner 
was  old  Jack  fairly  lapped  on  the  pacer,  whose 
driver  was  urging  him  along  with  reins  and 
voice  alike,  and  the  contest  seemed  doubtful, 


DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY.       79 

than,  the  spirit  of  old  Adam  himself  entered 
into  the  deacon  and  the  parson  both,  so  that, 
carried  away  by  the  excitement  of  the  race, 
they  fairly  forgot  themselves,  and  entered  as 
wildly  into  the  contest  as  two  ungodly  jockeys. 

"Deacon  Tubman!"  said  the  parson,  as  he 
clutched  the  rim  of  his  tall  hat,  against  which, 
as  the  horse  tore  along,  the  snow  chips  were 
pelting  in  showers,  more  stoutly,  "  Deacon 
Tubmai>!  do  you  think  the  pacer  will  beat  us?" 

"  Not  if  I  can  help  it !  not  if  I  can  hejp  it !  " 
yelled  the  deacon  in  reply,  as,  with  something 
like  a  reinsman's  skill,  he  instinctively  lifted 
Jack  to  another  spurt.  "Go  it,  old  boy!"  he 
shouted  encouragingly.  "  Go  along  with  you, 
I  say !  "  and  the  parson,  also  carried  away  by 
the  whirl  of  the  moment,  cried,  "  Go  along,  old 
boy  !  Go  along  with  you,  I  say  !  " 

This  was  the  very  thing,  and  the  only  thing,  that 
huge  horse,  whose  blood  was  now  fairly  aflame, 
wanted  to  rally  him  for  the  final  effort ;  and,  in 
response  to  the  encouraging  cries  of  the  two 


80       DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY. 

behind  him,  he  gathered  himself  together  for 
another  burst  of  speed,  and  put  forth  his  col 
lected  strength  with  such  tremendous  energy 
and  suddenness  of  movement  that  the  little 
deacon,  who  had  risen,  and  was  standing  erect 
in  the  sleigh,  fell  back  into  the  arms  of  the 
parson,  while  the  great  horse  rushed  over  the 
line  a  winner  by  a  clear  length,  amid  such 
cheers  and  roars  of  laughter  as  were  never 
heard  in  that  village  before. 

Nor  was  the  horse  any  more  the  object  of 
public  interest  and  remark  —  we  may  say  favor 
ing  remark  —  than  the  parson,  who  suddenly 
found  himself  the  centre  of  a  crowd  of  his  own 
parishioners,  many  of  whom  would  scarcely  be 
expected  as  participants  of  such  a  scene,  but 
who,  thawed  out  of  their  iciness  by  the  genial 
temper  of  the  day,  and  vastly  excited  over 
Jack's  contest,  thronged  upon  the  good  man, 
laughing  as  heartily  as  any  jolly  sinner  in  the 
crowd. 

So  everybody  shook   hands  with  the  parson 


DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY.       8 1 

and  wished  him  a  Happy  New  Year,  and  the 
parson  shook  hands  with  everybody  and  wished 
them  all  many  happy  returns  ;  and  everybody 
praised  old  Jack,  and  rallied  the  deacon  on  his 
driving ;  and  then  everybody  went  home  good- 
natured  and  happy,  laughing  and  talking  about 
the  wonderful  race,  and  the  change  that  had 
come  over  Parson  Whitney. 

And  as  for  Parson  Whitney  himself,  the  day 
and  its  fun  had  taken  twenty  years  from  his 
age,  and  nothing  would  answer  but  the  deacon 
must  go  home  and  eat  the  New  Year's  pudding 
at  the  parsonage :  and  he  did.  And  at  the 
table  they  laughed  and  talked  over  the  funny 
incidents  of  the  day,  and  joked  each  other  as 
merrily  as  two  boys.  Then  Parson  Whitney 
told  some  reminiscences  of  his  college  days, 
and  the  scrapes  he  got  into,  and  a  riot  between 
town  and  gown,  when  he  carried  the  4i  Bully's 
Club  ;  "  and  the  deacon  responded  by  narrating 
his  experiences  with  a  certain  Deacon  Jones's 
watermelon  patch  when  he  was  a  boy,  and  over 


82        DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY. 

their  tales  and  their  mulled  cider  they  laughed 
till  they  cried,  and  roared  so  lustily  at  the 
remembered  frolics  of  their  youthful  days  that 
the  old  parsonage  rang,  the  books  on  the 
library  shelves  rattled,  and  several  of  the  theo 
logical  volumes  actually  gaped  with  horror. 

But  at  last  the  stories  were  all  told,  the  jokes 
all  cracked,  and  the  laughter  all  laughed,  and 
the  little  deacon  wished  the  parson  good-by, 
and  jogged  happily  homeward  ;  but  more  than 
once  he  laughed  to  himself,  and  said,  "Bless 
my  soul!  I  didn't  know  the  parson  had  so  much 
fun  in  him."  And  long  the  parson  sat  by  the 
glowing  grate  after  the  deacon  had  left  him, 
musing  of  other  days,  and  the  happy,  pleasant 
things  that  were  in  them  ;  and  many  times  he 
smiled,  and  once  he  laughed  outright  at  some 
remembered  folly,  for  he  said,  "  What  a  wild  boy 
I  was,  and  yet  I  meant  no  wrong ;  and  the  dear 
old  days  were  very  happy." 

Ay,  ay!  Parson  Whitney,  the  dear  old  days 
were  very  happy,  not  only  to  thee,  but  to  all  of 


DEACON    TUBMAN    AND    PARSON  WHITNEY.       83 

us,  who,  following  our  sun,  have  fared  west 
ward  so  long  that  the  light  of  the  morning 
shows  dull  through  the  dim  haze  of  memory. 
But  happier  than  even  the  old  days  will  be  the 
young  ones,  I  ween,  when,  following  still  west 
ward,  we  suddenly  come  to  the  gates  of  the  new 
east  and  the  morning  once  more  ;  and  there,  in 
the  dawn  of  a  day  which  is  cloudless  and  end 
less,  we  find  our  lost  youth  and  its  loves,  to  lose 
them  and  it  no  more  forever,  thank  God  ! 


THE  LEAF  OF  RED  ROSE. 


THE  LEAF  OF  RED  ROSE: 

THE   OLD   TRAPPER'S  STORY. 


A 


STORY?     Why,  yes.     If   Henry,  there, 

will  translate  it 
And  put  it  in  verse  and  print  as  he  promised 
To  do  when  it   happened.     Will   he  do  it?     I 

doubt. 
He    dislikes    to   dabble    with    rhyme   and  with 

measure. 
Says  that  good  honest  prose  is   the   best  and 

the  sweetest 
If  the  words  be  well  chosen,  short,  Saxon,  and 

pithy. 
And  that  making  of  verse  is  the   business  of 

women, 

85 


86  THE    LEAF    OF    RED    ROSE. 

Of  green  boys  at  school,  and  of  lovers  when 

spooning. 
But    try    him.       It     may   be  he    will.       For    a 

lesson 

Is  in  it,  and  that  makes  it  worth  telling. 
The  woods  have  their  secrets  and  sorrows  and 

struggles 
As  well   as   the   cities.      You    can   find    in  the 

woods 
Many  things,  if  you  look,  beside  trees,  rocks, 

and  mountains. 

Jack  Whitcomb  he  said  his  name  was,  though  I 

doubted. 
For    the    name    on    his    bosom,    tattooed    in 

purple, 
Didn't  point  quite  that  way.      But  that  doesn't 

matter. 

One  name  in  the  woods  is  as  good  as  another 
If  a  man  answers  to  it  and  it's  easily  spoken. 
So  we  called    him    Jack  Whitcomb  and  asked 

nothing  further. 


THE    LEAF    OF    RED    ROSE.  87 

Hrave  ?     Why,  of  course  he  was  brave.     Men 

are  not  cowards. 
Cowards  clon't  come   to  the  woods.     They  stay 

in  the  cities, 
Where  policemen  are  thick  and  the  streets  are 

all  lighted. 
In  the  woods  men  trail  with  their  ears  and  eyes 

open, 
And  sleep  when  they  sleep  with  their  hands  on 

their  rifles. 
Why?     Well,  panthers  are  plenty  and  cunning 

and  quiet, 

And  a  man  is  a  fool  that  goes  carelessly  stumbling 
Under  trees  where   they  crouch,    under   crags 

where  they  gather. 
Furthermore,    with    the   saints,    now    and    then 

there  are  sinners 
That  live  in  the  woods;  and  some  half-breeds  are 

wicked, 
And   know   nothing  of  law  unless   taught  by  a 

bullet. 

I've    done   what    I    could   to   teach   knaves  the 
commandments. 


88  THE    LEAF    OF    RED    ROSE. 

Yes.     Jack  Whitcomb  was  brave.     Brave  as  the 

bravest. 
His  glance  was  as  keen  and  his  mouth  was  as 

silent 
As  a  trailer's  should  be   who    looks    and  who 

listens 

By  day  and  by  night,  having  no  one  to  talk  to. 
His    finger    was    quick    when     it    handled    the 

trigger, 
And  his  eye  loved  the  sights  as  lightning  loves 

rivers. 
I've   seen   him   stand   up  when  the  odds  were 

against  him. 
Stand    up    like    a    man   who    takes    coolly  the 

chances. 
That  proves  he  was  brave  as  I  understand  it. 

N» 

One  day  we  were  boating  on  far  Mistassinni. 
We  were  fetching  the  portage  above  the  great 

rapids, 
Where  they  whirled,  roaring  down,  freshet  full, 

at  their  whitest, 


THE    LEAF   OF    RED    ROSE.  89 

When  we  saw  from  a  rock  that  stretched  out 
ward  and  over 

The  wild  hissing  water  as  it  swept  on  in  thunder, 
A  canoe  coming  down,  rolling  over  and  over, 
With    a   little    papoose    clinging    tight    to    the 

lashings  ; 

And  as  it  lanced  by  Jack  went  in  like  an  otter. 
How  he  did  it  God  knows,  but  at   the  foot  of 

the  rapids, 
Half   a  mile    farther   down     racing  onward,    I 

found  him 
High  and  dry  on  the  beach   in   a  faint  like  a 

woman, 
With    the    little    papoose    pulling  away   at    his 

jacket. 
And   when    he    came   to,   he    put  child   to   his 

shoulder, 
Nor  stopped  till  it  lay  in  the  arms  of  its  mother. 

We  were  trailing,    Henry  and   I,   trailing   and 

trapping 
In    the    land    to  the  north,  where  fur  was  the 

thickest, 


90          THE  LEAP"  OF  RED  ROSE. 

And  knaves  were  as  plenty  as  mink  or  as  otter. 
We  took  turns  at  sleeping,  and  trailed  our  line 

double 

To  keep  our  own  skins,  if  we  didn't  get  others. 
It   was   folly   to   stay  where   we  were,  and  we 

knew  it, 
For  the  knaves  they  got  thicker,  and  soon  there 

was  shooting 
Going  on  pretty  lively.      But  we   held   to  the 

business 
And    scouted   the   line    once   a  week  like  true 

trappers. 
And  no  accident  happened  save  some  holes  in 

our  jackets, 
And  my  powder-horn  emptied  by  a  vagabond's 

bullet. 
So  we   mended    our  clothing   and    felt    pretty 

lively. 
But  the  signs  pointed  one  way.      Our  enemies 

thickened 
Around    us    each    day,  and    we    weren't    quite 

decided 


THE    LEAF    OF    RED    ROSE.  9 1 

To  stand  in  for  a  fight  and  settle  the  mat 
ter, 

Or  pull  up  our  traps  and  get  out  of  the 
country, 

When  it  settled  itself.  And  in  this  way  it 
happened. 

We  were  scouting  the  lake  on  the  west  shore 

one  morning, 
To  find  the  knaves'  camp  and  how  many  were 

in  it, 
When  a   short  space    ahead    there  came   of   a 

sudden 
A  crash  as  of   thunder,  and  we  knew   that  a 

dozen 
Or  twenty  placed  rifles  had  burst  an  ambush- 

ment. 

And  then  in  an  instant  there  sounded  another. 
Two  sharp,   twin    reports    and   the  death  yells 

that  followed 
Told  us  as  we  listened  where  the  lead  had  been 

driven. 


92  THE    LEAF    OF    RED    ROSE. 

Knew  who  he  was  ?     Of  course.     The  man  was 

Jack  Whitcomb. 
Do  you   think  men   who   live  by  trapping  and 

shooting 
Don't  learn   to  distinguish    the   voice    of   their 

rifles  ? 

Jack  was  trailing  the  lake  to  find  our  encamp 
ment, 
For  far  away  in  the  south  there  had  come  to  his 

cabin 
A    rumor    that    we    in    the     north    land    were 

holding 
Our  line    and   our  furs    with    a    good    deal    of 

shooting. 
So   he   left  his  own    traps    and   came   by  swift 

trailing 

To  give  us  the  help  of  another  good  rifle. 
That  was  just    like   Jack  Whitcomb.      If  you 

were  in  trouble 
He  was  there  by  your  side.     You  could  always 

count  on  him, 
With  finger  on  trigger  and  both  barrels  loaded. 


THE    LEAF   OF    RED    ROSE.  93 

So  Henry  and  I  both  took  to  our  covers 

Right  and  left  of  the  trail  Jack  must  take  in 

retreating. 
We    didn't   wait   long,    for   the    boy   knew    his 

business, 

And  soon  he  came  backward,  loading  and  run 
ning, 
Like    a    man    who  was    busy  but   wouldn't  be 

hurried 

Beyond  his  own  gait,  if  he  stopped  there  forever. 
As  he  passed  our  two  covers  I  piped  him  a 

whistle ; 
And   he  stopped  in   his  tracks,  and  with   low, 

pleasant  laughter, 
Stood    there    in    full    view   coolly  capping    the 

nipples. 
I  have  shot  on  each  Gulf,  both  Southern  and 

Northern. 

I  have  trailed  the  long  trail  between  either  ocean. 
Brave  men  I  have  seen,  both  in  good  and  in  evil, 
But  never  a  braver  than  the  man  called  Jack 

Whitcomb. 


94  THE    I'EAF    OF    RED    ROSE. 

Well,  why  describe  it  ?  Call  it  scrimmage  or 
battle, 

It  was  done  in  a  minute,  or  it  may  be  a 
dozen. 

It  came  like  a  whirlwind,  and  we  three  were 
in  it 

As  men  are  in  whirlwinds.  It  came  like  the 
thunder, 

With  a  crash  and  a  roar  and  a  long  running 
rumble 

Dying  down  into  silence.  There  were  dead  and 
some  wounded, 

And  a  few  lucky  knaves  that  fled  wildly  back 
ward  ; 

And  Henry  and  I,  when  it  passed,  were  left 
standing 

By  the  body  of  him  whose  name  was  Jack 
Whitcomb, 

Who  lay  as  he  fell,  when  headlong  he  tum 
bled, 

His  rifle  still  clinched  and  both  barrels 
smoking. 


THE    LEAK    OF    RED    ROSE.  95 

I  have  seen  in  my  life  many  wounds  made  by 
bullets, 

And  a  good  many  gashes  by  spear-points  and 
arrows. 

I  have  learned  in  my  trailing  a  good  many 
simples 

Which  have  power  to  keep  men  from  crossing 
the  river 

Before  the  Lord  calls  with  voice  that  is  certain. 

And  the  wound  that  we  found  on  Jack  Whit- 
comb's  body, 

Though  ugly  and  deep,  was  not  beyond  curing. 

We  cleansed  and  we  stanched  it  and  fought  a 
brave  battle 

With  death,  for  his  life,  and  we  won.  For  Jack 
mended. 

We  made  a  canoe  and  we  bore  him  far  south 
ward. 

A  hundred  good  miles  down  the  river  we  boated. 

Till  we  came  to  his  house  of  huge  logs,  strongly 
builded, 


96        .  THE    LEAF    OF    RED    ROSE. 

Beneath  the  big  pines  on  the  bank  of  a  rapid, 
Which   under  it  flowed   its  soft  rush  of  brown 

water. 
Twas  a  place  to  bring  peace  to  a  heart  that  was 

troubled, 

If  peace  might  be  found  this  side  of  the  silence 
Which  brings  peace  to  all  that  know  sorrow  in 

living. 

Yes,  we  boated  him  down  to  his  home  by  the 

rapids. 
His    home  ?     No,    rather    his    house    let    us 

call  it. 
For  how  can  a  house  be  a  home  with   naught 

in  it? 
In  house    that    is    home  must    be    love,  .warm 

and  human, 

A  voice  that  is  sweet,  a  heart  that  is  gentle, 
A  soul  that  is  true,  and  beside  these  a  cradle 
That  prattles  and  coos  ;    and  the  quick-falling 

patter 
Of  little  white  feet  that  run  hither  and  thither. 


THE    LEAF    OF    RED    ROSE.  97 

To  his  house,  and  not  to  his    home,  then,  we 

brought  him, 

For  certainly  nothing  and  no  one  was  in  it, 
Save  himself  and  a  dog,  a  bed  and  a  table, 
Some  chairs,  a  few  books,  and  a —  Picture. 
And  this  was  the  story  that  he  told  us  in  dying. 
The  man  might  have  lived,  beyond  doubt,  had 

he  cared  to. 
But  he  didn't.     No  motive,  he  said.     And  he 

had  none, 

As  we  felt  later  on,  when  he  told  us  his  story. 
So  he  died  without  word  or  sign.  And  in 

silence 

We  stood  and  saw  him  go  forth  on  his  journey 
Without  speaking  a  word,  without  a  hand  lifted 
To  hold  or  to  stop    him,  for  we    did   not   feel 

certain 
What  was  wisdom  for  one  who  went  forth  in 

such  fashion. 

Perhaps  it  was  best  he  should  go  and  be  over 
With  pain,  loss  and  trouble  for  ever  and  ever. 
Henry  says,  it  were  well  we  should  all  of  us  go 


98  THE    LEAF    OF    RED    ROSE. 

When  life  has   no  aim   and  no  hope  ;  and  no 

doing 

Remains  to  be  done  ;  and  days  are  but  eating 
And  drinking  and  breathing,  only  these  and  no 

more. 

But    before    he    went    forth    he    gave    me    a 

message. 

"  I  loved  her,"  so  his  story  began.     Henry, 
You  remember  the  look  on  his  face  as  he  said  it, 
As    he    lay   with    his    eyes    fixed    fast    on    the 

Picture  ? 
"  She  was  strong,  and  she  drew  me  as  life  draws 

the  young 
And    as   death    draws    the    old.      1    could    not 

resist  her. 

She  was  vital  with  force,  to  attract  and  to  hold. 
She  raced  me  a  race  for  my  life,  and  she  won  it. 
I  was  man,  not  a  boy,  and  I  loved  as  man  loves 
When  the  forces  of  life  are  in  him  full-flooded 
As  rivers  in    meadows,  when    they  flow  to  the 

sedges. 


THE    LEAF    OF    RED    ROSE.  99 

Did  she  love  me  ?     Perhaps.     Who  can    tell  ? 

She  was  woman, 
And  hence  she  was  dark  as  the  night,  and  as 

hidden  ! 
Who  could   find  her?     Who  the  depth  of  her 

nature 
Might  measure  ?     I  tried  but  could  not.     Then 

boldly 
I  spake  —  spake  as  man  speaks  but  once  unto 

woman. 

True  and  straight  did  I  say  it  man  fashion. 
But  she  drew  back  offended  ;  she  shrank  from 

my  praying, 

And  with   coldness  of  tone  and  suspicion  dis 
missed  me. 
Had  a   man   shown  a  tithe  of  that  look  in  his 

eye, 
On  his  face,  he  or  I  would   have  died  on   the 

instant. 
Rut  what  can  a   man   do,  when  scorned  by  a 

woman  ? 
So  I  left  her. 


IOO         THE  LEAF  OF  RED  ROSE. 

I  need  not  say  more.     My  life  it  was  ended. 

It  wasn't  worth  living ;  —  I  am  made  in  that 
fashion. 

So  I  came  to  the  woods.  Where  else  when  in 
trouble 

Can  man  go  and  find  what  he  needs,  con 
solation  ? 

Go  you  down  to  her  house,  in  the  city,  John 
Norton, 

To  the  house  where  she  lives,  and  give  her  this 
message. 

Word  for  word  let  her  hear  it,  —  say  where  you 
left  me. 

There's  gold  in  that  box  to  pay  your  ex 
penses. 

Word  for  word  as  I  tell  you,  nor  say  a  word 
further." 

Then  he  bade  us  good-by,  and  marched  away 
bravely, 

As  a  man  on  a  trail  that  is  somewhat  un 
certain. 

And  under  the  pines  on  the  bank  of  the  rapids 


THE  LEAF  OF  RED  ROSE.         IOI 

We  buried  the  man  whom  the  woods  called  — 

Jack  Whitcomb, 
And   the   picture   he   loved  we    placed    on  his 

bosom. 


I  went  down  to  her  house  in  the  city.     A  cabin 
Of    stone,   brown   as    tamarack    bark,   trimmed 

with   olive. 

It  was  high  as  a  pine  that  stands  on  a  moun 
tain. 
The    door  was    as    wide    as    the    mouth    of    a 

cavern. 
At    the    door    stood    a    man   rigged    up  like  a 

soldier ; 

His  face  was  as  solemn  as  judgment  to  sinners; 
He  looked   at  me  some,  and   I  looked  him  all 

over, 
Then  he  suddenly  bowed  like  a  half-breed  with 

manners, 
And    told    me    to    enter,    and    he    would    call 

Madame. 


102         THE  LEAF  OF  RED  ROSE. 

The  room  was  as  large  as  a  town  house  where 

settlers 
Hold  meetings  to   vote   themselves  office  and 

wages. 

The  walls  were  like  caves  in  far  Arizona, 
All  covered  with  pictures  of  houses  and  battles  ; 
Of  ships  blown  onward  by  gales  in  mid-ocean  ; 
Of  children  with    wings,   pretty   queer-looking 

creatures ; 

Of  men   and  of  women,  and  some  were  half- 
naked. 
But  the  floor  was  of  oak,  which  gleamed  like  a 

polish ; 
And  with  mats  thick  as  moss,  and  with  skins  it 

was  covered, 
So    I    felt    quite    at    home,    as    there    I    stood 

looking, 
And  noting  the  size  and  signs  of  the  cabin. 

Then,  all  of  a  sudden,  there  came  a  soft  rustle, 
Like  the  rustle  of  leaves  when  the  wind  blows 
in  autumn. 


THE  LEAF  OF  RED  ROSE.         103 

And   down    the  wide  stairway  across  the  great 

hall, 
To    the    door    of    the    room    in   which    I    was 

standing, 

Stately  and  swift,  came  a  woman  and  entered. 
Tall  as  the  tallest.     Made  firmly,  knit  firmly 
Both    in    form   and    in    limb,  but    full  and  well 

rounded ; 

Dark  of  eye,  dark  of  face,  with  hair  like  a  raven, 
Like  the  girls  of   Nevada,  where  live   the  old 

races, 
Whose   blood  is  as  fire,  and  whose  skin   is  of 

olive, 
Whose  mouths  are  as  sweet  as  a  fig  when  it 

ripens. 
Arms  bare  to  the  shoulders.     Neck  and  bosom 

uncovered. 
Her  gown  of  white  satin  gleamed   and  Mowed 

downward 

And  round  her  in  folds  of  soft,  creamy  white 
ness. 
No  ring  on  her  hand,  nor  in  ear.     Not  a  circle 


IO4         THE  LEAF  OF  RED  ROSE. 

Of  gold  round  her  throat.     One  armlet  of  silver, 
And  one  at  her  wrist  loosely  clasped,  small  and 

slender. 
So  she  entered  and  stood,  and  looked  me  all  over. 

Then  slowly  she  spake.     "  Your  name,  sir,  and 

business  ?  " 
"  Madame,"  I  said,  "  in  the  woods  men  call  me 

John  Norton  ; 
John   Norton,   the  Trapper."     Then   I   stopped 

mighty  sudden, 
For  her  face  it  grew  white  to  the  lips  and  the 

chin, 
And  she  swayed  as  a  tree  to  the  stroke  of  the 

chopper 
When  he  sinks  his  axe  in  to  the  heart  and  it 

totters 
And  quivers.     So  I  stopped,  stopped  quick  and 

stood  looking. 

Then    her  dark   face   it   lighted,  and  she  said, 
speaking  quickly : 


THE  LEAF  OF  RED  ROSE.          105 

"John   Norton,  I   know  you.     I   know  you  are 

honest. 
You  live  in  the  woods.     You  are  good.      I  can 

trust  you. 
All  men,  I   have   heard,  come  to  you   in  their 

trouble. 
Have  you  seen  in  the  North,  have  you  met  in 

the  woods, 

Has  there  come  to  your  cabin  a  man,  tall  as  you, 
Brave   as  you   and   as  tender  ?     A  man  like  to 

this  ?  " 
And  out  of   her  gown,  from   the  folds  on  her 

bosom, 

She  lifted  a  locket  of  pearl-colored  velvet, 
Touched  a   spring,  and  I   saw,  as  the  lid  of  it 

opened, 
The  face  of  the  man  I  and  Henry  had  buried ! 

"  John  Norton,"  she  cried,  and  her  eyes  burned 

like  fever. 
Her  hand  shook  and  trembled,  her  face  was  as 

marble, 


IQ6         THE  LEAF  OF  RED  ROSE. 


'  Have  you  seen  in  the  woods  man  like  to  this 

picture  ? 
Speak   quick   and   speak  true  as  to  woman   in 

trouble. 
For  I  did  him  great  wrong,  I   thought  he  held 

lightly 
My    fair    name    and     fame;     held     lightly    my 

honor. 
I   thought   he   meant  evil,  and  my  heart,  filled 

with  anger, 
Dismissed  him  in  scorn  ;  but  I  learned,  I  learned 

later, 
He  was  true,  and  spake  truth  and  loved  me  as 

heaven." 

Then  I    stood   and  I  looked   and   held  my  face 

steady, 

So  it  gave  her  no  sign  of  what  I  was  thinking. 
I    saw    she  was   honest,  and   I    wished    then   to 

spare  her, 
But   my  word   it  was  pledged,  pledged  to  him 

in  dying, 


THE  LEAF  OF  RED  ROSE.         IO/ 

To    stand    as   I    stood,  face   to    face  with    this 

woman, 
In   her  house,  in  that  room,  and  give  her  his 

message. 
Beside,    not    to    know    is    far   worse    than    the 

knowing 
At    times.      So    I     rallied    and    told    her    the 

message, 
Word  for  word,  as  he  charged,  the  night  he  lay 

dying 
In  his  house  on  the  bank  above  the  swift  rapids. 

"  Madame,"  I  said,  "  I  have  seen  man  like  that 

picture, 
Face  and  form.     He  was  brave  as  you  say.     He 

was  tender. 
He  was  true  unto  death,  and  he  loved  you  as 

heaven. 
And   these'  are  the  words  that  he  sent  you  in 

dying. 
I,  a  man  of  the  woods,  bring  you  this  as  last 

message, 


1O8         THE  LEAF  OF  RED  ROSE. 

Prom  one  who  now  sleeps  on  the  bank  of  the 

rapids 
Of  that  northern   river  which  pours  its  brown 

water 

To  the  Lake  of  St.  John  from  far  Mistassinni. 
4  Tell   her,   John   Norton,  I    loved  her.     Loved 

her  in  living, 
With  a  love  that  was  true,  and  with  same  love 

in  dying. 

Loved  her  like  a  man,  like  a  saint,  like  a  sinner, 
For  time  now  and  time  ever.      That  the   one 

picture 
She    gave    me    I    kept ;  —  living,    dying,    and 

after. 
That  it  lies  on  the  breast  of  the  man  that  you 

buried ; 
On  the  breast  of  the  man  who  living  did  love 

her, 

And  that  there  it  will  lie  until  it  shall  crumble, 
With  heart  underneath  it,  to  dust.     So  tell  her, 
And  in  proof  that  I   tell  her  the  truth,  and  did 

tell  it 


THE    LEAF    OF    RED    ROSE.  1 09 

The  night  when  we  met,  and  I  told  her  I  loved 

her, 
Give  her  this,   the  watch   that   I  wore   on  the 

evening 
We  met,  and  the  evening  we  parted.     Let  her 

open 
And   see.     With  her  eyes    let    her  see    that  I 

loved  her. 
So  say  and  no  more." 

Thus  I  spake.     Word  for  word  as  he  told  me  I 

spake. 
I    gave    her  the    watch,   and    I    said    no   word 

further. 
I   had  done  as  I   pledged,    I    had    said    as    he 

charged  me, 
So  I    stopped    and  stood  waiting  for  word  of 

dismissal. 
But    she    said    not    a   word,    nor    made    she    a 

sign. 
The    watch    she    took    from    me,   touched    the 

spring  and  it  opened, 


I  10  THE    LEAF    OF    RED    ROSE. 

And    there,    'twixt    the    glass    and    the    gold, 

withered  and  faded, 
Lay  a  leaf  of  Red  Rose.     One  leaf,  and  —  no 

more. 

For  a  moment  she  stood  ;  stood,  and  gazed  at 

the  leaf, 
Her  face  grew  as  white  as  her  gown,  and  she 

trembled 
And  shook  like  a  white  swan  in  dying,  then  she 

cried, 

"  My  God,  I  have  killed  him,  my  lover !  " 
And  down  on  the  floor,  on  the  skins  at  her  feet 
She    dropped    as    one    stricken    by   bullet    or 

lightning. 

It  was  only  last  month  that  we  two,  in  trailing, 
Trailed    a    hundred    good    miles  across   to  the 

rapids. 

For  we  wanted  to  see  before  going  northward 
If  evil   had   come   to   the   grave    of  our  com 
rade. 


THE    LEAF    OF    RED    ROSE.  I  I  I 

But  the  grave  lay  untouched,  by   beast  or  by 

human. 
The  grass  on   the  mound  was  well  rooted  and 

growthful. 

At  the  foot  of  the  grave  the  rose-tree  I  planted 
Was  as  high  as  my  head.     And   the  leaves  of 

the  roses 
Lay  as  thick  as  red  snow-flakes  on  the  mound 

that  was  under. 
And  we  knew  that  on  breast,  as  he  slept,  was 

her  picture. 
So  we  felt,  as  we  gazed,  it  was  well  with  Jack 

Whitcomb. 

But  often  at  night,  when  alone  in  my  cabin. 
I  hear  the  low  murmur  of  far  northern  rapids. 
And    often    I    see     the    great    house     and    its 

splendor, 
And    wonder    if    death    has    helped   the   proud 

woman 
To    lay    off    her    grief    and    escape     from    her 

sorrow, 


I  1 2  THE    LEAF    OF    RED    ROSE. 

And  blazed  a  line  through  the  dark  Valley  of 

Shadow, 
And  brought  her  in  peace  to  the  edge  of  the 

clearing, 
Where  I  know  she  would  see  Jack  Whitcomb 

stand,  waiting. 

So  I  say  it  again,  and  I  say  it  with  knowledge, 
That  the  woods  have  their  sorrows  as  well  as 

the  cities. 
And  he  knows  but  little  of  this  great  northern 

forest 
Who    thinks    there's    naught    in    it   save  trees, 

lakes,  and  mountains. 


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DAYLIGHT  LAN  D.  The  experiences,  incidents,  and  adventures,  humorous 
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most  artistic  of  Mr.  Murray's  excursions  into  the  realms  of  fiction,  and  fascinating 
generally." — Sattirday  Evening  Gazette. 

DEACONS.     By  W.  H.  H.  MURRAY.     i6mo.     Paper,  50  cts.     Cloth,  75  cts. 
"  Mr.  Murray  is  an  expert  in  the  art  of  character  drawing  ;  he  can  manipulate 
humor  and  pathos  with  equal  facility.     No  one  will  gainsay  their  freshness  and 
individuality." — N.  Y.  Commercial  Advertiser. 


ADIRONDACK  ADVENTURES.  "  In  the  Wilderness;  or,  Camp  Life 
in  the  Adirondacks."  By  W.  H.  H.  MURRAY.  i2ino.  Illustrated.  Paper, 
50  cts.  Cloth,  $1.25. 

"  In  the  '  Adventures  in  the  Wilderness'  W.  H.  H.  Murray  strikes  the  happy 
hunting  ground,  which  long  a;^o  earned  for  him  the  popular  title,  'Adirondack 
Murray,'  and  here,  as  in  his  other  books,  he  fairly  revels  in  stirring  incident, 
lively  and  faithful  conception  of  character,  and  the  powerful  but  delightful  de 
scription  of  natural  scenery  which  have  already  given  his  work  an  enviable 
and  lasting  place  in  American  literature."— Nashville  A  merican. 


THE   BUSTED    EX-TEXAN,  AND  OTHER  STORIES.    By  W. 

H.  H.  MURRAY.     With  photogravure  portrait  of  Mr.  Murray,  and  eight  full- 
pa^e  illustrations  by  Thos.  Worth.     Square  i2mo.     Cloth,  $1.00, 


CIVILIZATION    IN    THE    UNITED    STATES,   AND    OTHER 

ESSAYS  CONCERNING  AMERICA.  By  MATTHEW  ARNOLD. 
i6mo.  Unique  paper  boards,  50  cts.  Cloth,  uncut,  $1.25.  The  cloth  binding 
matches  the  uniform  edition  of  his  collected  works.  Comprises  the  critical 
essays,  which  created  so  much  discussion,  namely,  "General  Grant,  an  Esti 
mate,"  "  A  Word  About  America,"  "  A  Word  More  About  America,"  and 
"  Civilization  in  the  United  States."  The  collection  gathers  in  the  great 
critic's  last  contribution  to  literature. 


DC  Wolfe,  Fiske  6-  Co.,          Booksellers,  BOSTON. 

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Standard  and  Popular  Books. 


BULFINCH'S  MYTHOLOGY. 
THE  AGE  OF  CHIVALRY;    Or  Legends  of  King  Arthur.   "Stories 

of  the  Round  Table,"    "  The  Crusades, "    "Robin  Hood,  "etc.      By  THOMAS 

BULFINCH.     A   new  and   enlarged   edition.     Revised  by   Rev.    E.  E.    HALK. 

Large  i2mo.     Illustrated.     $z.fo. 

In  "The  Age  of  Fable,"  Mr.  Bulfinch  endeavored  to  impart  the  pleasure  of 
classical  learning  to  the  English  reader  by  presenting  the  stories  of  Pagan  mythol 
ogy  in  a  form  adapted  to  modern  taste.  In  this  volume  the  attempt  has  been 
made  to  treat  in  the  same  way  the  stories  of  the  second  "  age  of  fable'' — the  age 
which  witnessed  the  dawn  of  the  several  states  of  modern  Europe. 

THE  AGE  OF  FABLE;  Or,  Beauties  of  Mythology.    By  THOMAS 

BUI-FINCH.     A  new  and  enlarged  edition,  containing  over  100  illustrations  from 

ancient  paintings  and  statuary.      Revised  by  Rev.  E.  E.  HALE.      Large  iamo. 

$2.50. 

Young  readers  will  find  this  book  a  sonrce  of  entertainment ;  those  more  ad 
vanced,  a  useful  companion  in  their  reading ;  those  who  travel  and  visit  museums 
and  gallaries  of  art,  an  interpreter  of  paintings  and  sculptures. 

LEGENDS  OF  CHARLEMAGNE;  Or,  Romance  of  the  Middle 

Ages.     Stories  of  Paladin   and    Saracen.     By   THOMAS    BULFINCH.     tamo. 
Illustrated.     $2.50. 

PROK.  CLARK  MURRAY'S  WORKS. 

SOLOMON      MAIMON  :     An  Autobiography.      Translated  from   the 

German,  with  Additions  and  Notes,  by  Prof.  J.  CLARK  MURRAY.    Cr.  Svo. 

Cloth.    307  pages.     $2.00. 

The  London  Spectator  says :  "  Dr.  Clark  Murray  has  had  the  rare  good 
fortune  of  first  presenting  this  singularly  vivid  book  in  an  English  transla 
tion  as  pure  and  lively  as  if  it  were  an  original,  and  an  original  by  a  classic 
English  writer." 

George  Eliot,  in  "  Daniel  Deronda,"  mentions  it  as  "  that  wonderful  bit  of 
autobiography — the  life  of  the  Polish  Jew,  Solomon  Maimon ;"'  and  Mil- 
man,  in  his  "  History  of  the  Jews,"  refers  to  it  as  a  curious  and  rare  book. 

HANDBOOK    OF    PSYCHOLOGY.      By  Prof.  J.  CLARK  MURRAY, 
LL.D..  Professor  of  Mental  and  Moral  Philosophy,  M'Gill  College,  Mon 
treal.     Cr.  Svo.     ad  edition,  enlarged  and  improved.     $1.75. 
Clearly  and  simply  written,  with  illustrations  so  well  chosen  that  the  dul 
lest  student  can  scarcely  fail  to  take  an  interest  in  the  subject. 

Adopted  for  use  in  colleges  in  Scotland,  England,  Canada,  and  the  United 
States. 

Prof.  Murray's  good  fortune  in  bringing  to  light  the  "  Maimon  Memoirs," 
together  with  the  increasing  popularity  of  his  "  Handbook  of  Psychology," 
has  attracted  the  attention  of  the  intellectual  world,  giving  him  a  position 
with  the  leaders  of  thought  of  the  present  age.  His  writings  are  at  once 
original  and  suggestive. 


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THE  POPULAR  WORKS  OF  SALLY  PRATT  MCLEAN. 

CAPE  COD  FOLKS.  A  Novel.  Twenty-third  edition.  Illustrated, 
izmo.  Cloth,  $1.25.  Paper,  50  cents. 

TOWHEAD:    THE  STORY  OF  A  GIRL.     Fifth   Thousand.     i2mo. 

Cloth,  $1.25.     Paper,  50  cents. 

Since  the  production  of  Miss  McLean's  first  effort  "Cape  Cod  Folks,"  she  has 
steadily  advanced  in  intellectual  development ;  the  same  genius  is  at  work  in  a 
larger  and  more  artistic  manner,  until  she  has  at  length  produced  what  must  be 
truly  considered  as  her  masterpiece,  and  which  we  have  the  pleasure  to  announce 
for  immediate  publication. 

SOME  OTHER   FOLKS.     A  Book  in  Four  Stories.     121110.     Cloth,  #1.25. 

Paper,  50  cents, 

These  books  are  so  well  known  that  further  comment  seems  superfluous. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  entire  press  of  the  country  has  unanimously  spoken  of 
them  in  terms  of  high  praise,  dwelling  not  only  on  their  delicious  humor,  their 
literary  workmanship,  their  genuine  pathos,  and  their  real  power  and  eloquence, 
but  what  has  been  described  as  their  deep,  true  humanness,  and  the  inimitable 
manner  in  which  the  mirror  is  held  up  to  nature  that  all  may  see  reflected  therein 
some  familiar  trait,  some  description  or  character  which  is  at  once  recognized. 

LASTCHANCE  JUNCTION:  HUMAN  NATURE  IN  THE 
FAR  WEST.  A  Novel.  By  SALLY  PRATT  McLRAN.  i  vol.  izmo. 
Cloth,  $1.25. 

"  i  erse,  incisive  descriptions  of  men  and  scenery,  drawn  with  so  vivid  a  pen 
that  one  can  see  the  characters  and  their  setting,  delicious  bits  of  humor,  passages 
full  of  infinite  pathos,  make  this  book  absolutely  hold  the  reader  from  the  title  to 
the  last  word,  and  as,  when  finished,  one  sighs  for  the  pity  of  it,  the  feeling  rises 
that  such  a  work  has  not  been  written  in  vain,  and  will  have  its  place  among  those 
which  tend  to  elevate  our  race." 


MISS    FRANCES    MERLEY.      A  Novel.     By  JOHN  ELLIOT  CURRAN. 

420  pages.     Square  i6mo.     Paper  covers,  50  cents.     Cloth,  $1.00. 
The  first  important ^work  of  an  author  familiar  to  American  readers  by 
his  remarkable  sketches  to  Scribner''*  and  other  magazines. 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF  A    NEW   ENGLAND    FARM    HOUSE: 

A  Romance  of  the  Cape  Cod   Lands.     By  N.  II.  CHAMHERLAIN.     380 

pages.     Square  1 6mo.     Paper  covers,  50  cents.     Cloth,  $1.00. 

A  novel  of  singular  power  and  beauty,  great  originality  and  rugged  force. 

Born  and  bred  on  Cape  Cod,  the  author,  at  the  winter  firesides  of  country 

people,   very  conservative   of  ancient    English   customs  now  gone,  heard 

curious  talk  of  kings,  Puritan  ministers,  the  war  and  precedent  struggle  of 

our  Revolution,  and  touched  a  race  of  men  and  women  now  passed  away. 

He  also  heard,  chiefly  from  ancient  women,  the  traditions  of  ghosts,  witches 

and   Indians,  as  they  are  preserved,  and  to  a  degree  believed,  by  honest 

Christian  folk,  in  the  very  teeth  of  modern  progress. 


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M181746 


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